


Point of No Return

by amethystdragonnight



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2019-09-20 13:44:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 38,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17023698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amethystdragonnight/pseuds/amethystdragonnight
Summary: What if the Green Goblin existed in the MCU? Peter Parker and Harry Osborn used to be best friends in middle school, until Harry got pulled out of public school by his father. When Harry and Peter reconnect, no one is suspicious...except Tony Stark. Meanwhile, Peter battles the Green Goblin almost daily, and is curious as to who wears the green mask. It could be anyone. Even the father of his best friend, Norman Osborn. But that's not possible, is it?





	1. Chapter 1

Tony's POV 

Later on, Tony realized he should have known something was wrong the second the phone rang. He should have sensed it. He should have never let Peter pick up the phone. Then maybe, none of the rest would have happened. But he didn’t. 

Peter and Tony were at the compound on a Saturday, for training, as usual. Nothing was out of the ordinary. They were in the kitchen, taking a break. Tony tossed Peter a Powerade from the fridge, which he took with a nod, catching it just a little too well. But then again, that was Peter. Tony had grown used to the boy’s fast reflexes by now. No one else was there, so when Peter’s phone rang, he jumped a little at the sudden noise.

“May?” Tony asked. 

“Nah. Shouldn’t be her yet.” Peter pulled out the crappy phone, cracked screen and all. “I don’t recognize the number.” 

“Pete, I am begging you to let me replace that thing.” 

“No,” he said, pulling the phone to his chest. “She has character.” 

“Sure,” Tony said, and rolled his eyes. “Just pick it up. That ringtone is obnoxious.” 

Peter grinned and pressed the button, ending the chorus of Never Gonna Give You Up, and put the phone to his ear. Everything was normal for a second. Peter nodded at the person on the other end, looking a little confused. Then his face lit up like the sun. 

“Harry?” He cried. “Harry Osborn?” 

Tony turned from the fridge to look at Peter. 

“Um, did you just say—” 

Peter put up a finger and jumped off the stool. “Sorry Harry, gimme a sec.” He put the phone to his shoulder and said, “Harry was like my best friend in middle school. We haven’t talked in forever.” He pulled the phone back up. “So what’s up? Oh, you got a new phone? So that's why I didn't know it was you.” He walked out of the room, talking animatedly to the other kid, leaving Tony confused and frustrated in the kitchen. 

“Osborn?” he whispered to himself, closing the fridge. “Really? Fucking Oscorp is everywhere.” He began working on he and Peter’s lunch, making himself one sandwich and Peter several. Kid needed to eat, after all. Still, his mood didn’t improve, and he was relieved when Peter walked back in several minutes later, grinning. “So wanna tell me why you’re talking to the Oscorp kid?” 

 

“I told you, he was like my best friend in middle school.” 

“I thought that was Ned.” 

“Well, yeah.” Peter put a hand to the back of his neck. “I was friends with both of them.” He put his hand down. “But Harry’s dad took him out of school cause he wanted him to learn about company crap, or something. He pretty much dropped off the face of the Earth after that. I haven’t seen him in a couple years. I’m surprised his dad even let him call me.” 

“Yeah well, dads are jerks,” Tony muttered. 

“So Harry wants to hang out. I said sure, cause I mean, why not?” 

His phone beeped, and as he turned to look at it, he groaned. 

“Business calling?” Tony said. 

“Yeah,” Peter said, leaning an elbow on the counter. “It’s that goblin guy again. I don’t know why he picked such a stupid name. I mean, Green Goblin?” 

Tony nodded. “Yeah, not that catchy. Still, you should go. It’ll take you awhile to get back to the city, won’t it?” 

“I’ll just jump on the back of a truck,” Peter said, putting his phone in his pocket. “So uh, see you next weekend?” 

Tony gave a nod and a wave, letting Peter rush out the door. 

The Green Goblin, as he’d named himself, had been terrorizing the city of New York for about a week now. Peter had done a good job of dealing with him, so Tony saw no need to step in. The kid could handle it himself. Still, he had yet to catch the guy. But despite never saying so, Tony knew Peter would get him soon. He was good. Tony still wondered who the Goblin was, but didn’t think much of it. He’d leave that to Peter. Surely it couldn’t be anyone important. 

What was important was the fact that Peter was friends with Norman Osborn’s son. Norman Osborn, Tony’s sworn enemy, the head of Oscorp. Granted, Oscorp was more adept at dealing with genetics, and Stark Industries was more about arc reactor technology, but still, the rivalry was there. And then there was the small matter that Oscorp was to blame for what had happened to Peter. 

Tony was happy that Peter was Spiderman. He was. But every once in awhile Peter would let a little bit of his insecurities show. He couldn’t be like the other teenagers, ever. Even when Tony had met the kid, he’d told him he wanted to play football, but shouldn’t. And of course, he’d heard all about the week after the bite. Apparently it had been the worst pain Peter had ever experienced. Worse than getting a building dropped on him. Tony would never truly be able to forgive someone who did that to Peter, unintentional though it may have been. 

Tony sighed and looked at all the sandwiches he’d prepared. Well, Peter wasn’t going to be eating them today. Tony thought about it and wrapped them up, putting them in the fridge for another time. After all, Peter would be back. 

 

Peter did come back, late the following day. Tony wasn’t alone this time, either. He, Bruce, and Rhodey were all in one of the common areas when Peter walked in, slumped his backpack on the ground, then proceeded to fall face-first onto one of the couches with a long groan. 

“Ouch,” Rhodey said. “Rough day?” 

“It’s this stupid Goblin guy,” Peter said, voice muffled by the couch. “He won’t leave me alone. I mean, can he not wreck the city for like one day? Maybe I could actually have a life then.” 

“What’d you miss this time?” Bruce said. 

Peter pushed himself up to a sitting position and crossed his arms. “Extra decathlon practice. We don’t really need it, but MJ thinks we can do better.” He sat back. “And I can’t miss any more. You know what she threatened to do to me if I miss another one? She’s gonna rip out my liver and feed it to her cats. I like my liver.” 

Tony rolled his eyes and smirked. 

“Plus I was gonna hang out with Harry after that. But that got ruined.” 

“Harry Osborn again?” Tony said, raising an eyebrow. “You two sure reconnected fast.” 

“Well duh, he’s like, one of my best friends,” Peter said, as if that explained everything. 

“Osborn?” Bruce’s eyes widened. He turned to Peter. “You’re friends with Norman’s son?” 

“Well, yeah.” Peter shrugged. “We used to be best friends in middle school but his dad took him out of public school. But he called me yesterday and we’re talking again. It’s pretty awesome.” He grinned, then sobered. “Though he does say his dad’s being super controlling. That sucks.” He shifted. “But at least Mr. Osborn’s letting him talk to people again.” 

Somehow Tony felt the attention in the room shift to him. He did know a thing or two about bad dads, after all. 

He cleared his throat and looked at Peter. “So…have you two rescheduled?” 

“Yeah,” Peter said with a nod. Tony let out a breath as everyone looked at the boy instead of him. “We’re gonna hang out tomorrow after school.” 

“You think the Green Goblin will let you have a day off?” Rhodey asked, half-joking by his tone of voice. 

Peter sank into his seat. “He’d better.” 

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Tony said, rising. “Why don’t we get to your training for the day, though?” 

Peter grinned. “That’d be great.” He flipped off the couch, landing on his feet. 

Tony rolled his eyes and said, “All right, show off. Let’s get to it.” 

With that, he beckoned Peter out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

They travelled down the hallways of the compound for awhile before arriving at the training area. It was mostly underground, and good thing too, because it was enormous. About as big as a football field, the Avenger’s underground training area was filled to the brim with the best equipment Tony could find. There were the standard weights and training mats, but there were also targets for Clint, model shields for Steve, spare repulsors for Tony, and most recently, a blank section of wall for Peter to climb on, as well as some spare webshooters. 

Tony grabbed a repulsor glove and a webshooter, tossing the latter to Peter. As he fixed the repulsor to his hand, he led the boy over to one of the training mats. It didn’t take long for the two to fall into their usual routine; Tony would shoot beams at Peter, while the boy would try and dodge. Tony made sure to aim at the wall, it being made of a material made to sustain his blasts. Though his training repulsors weren’t nearly as strong as his real ones. Peter really only had the webshooters for comfort’s sake; he felt better having them on. Plus he could use them to leap out of the way, as he did now. Tony aimed for his head, and Peter shot a web at the ceiling, pulling himself up and out of the way.

“So tell me about this Goblin guy,” Tony said as Peter came forward with a flying kick. Tony rolled out of the way and shot another blast. Peter ducked under it and said, 

“So he’s got like this Halloween theme going, right?” The kid scrambled up the wall, dodging repulsor blasts as he went, then coming up to the ceiling. 

“Really? Where’d he get that?” 

“Dunno,” Peter said, extending a hand and shooting a web down at Tony’s repulsor. It hit dead on, right in the center. Tony shot another beam, detaching the material from his glove. “He’s got super powers or something, though. And he rides this glider thing, shaped like a bat. Calls it his goblin glider. Woah!” Peter jumped down from the ceiling at another blast from Tony. “Watch it.” 

Tony shrugged. “Not my fault if you’re slow.” He raised the glove again. “Why haven’t you taken care of him yet?” 

“Hey, he’s good,” Peter said, rolling out of the way of another shot. “And I mean, it took me forever to take down the Vulture guy. Though that’s really your fault.” 

Tony frowned as Peter crouched then jumped up onto the ceiling, clinging with his hands and feet. “I don’t remember that.” 

“Uh, you took away the suit, remember?” 

“Right.” 

“So like,” Peter let a hand drop, aiming his webshooters at Tony again. “He’s also got these pumpkin bombs. Like Halloween pumpkins. It's hard to explain.” He aimed a web at Tony, but the man managed to dodge out of the way. Peter let the web go with a grimace, then crawled across the ceiling a bit, coming right above Tony. “Those things can melt through three inches of steel.” 

Tony raised his eyebrows, along with his repulsor. Peter dropped to the ground, most likely intending to tackle Tony, but he only succeeded in landing face-first on the training mat. 

“You need to work on your aim when you do that,” Tony said, pretending to dust off his glove. “How many times have you landed on your face now?” 

Peter groaned, rising to his feet. “Whatever, old person.” 

Tony’s mouth dropped open. “How dare you.” 

Peter laughed. “That never gets old.” He aimed a punch at Tony’s stomach, but the man sidestepped and aimed his repulsor at Peter’s chest. The strike hit home, sending the kid careening into the wall. 

When he didn’t move for a second, Tony felt a wave of panic, but the boy groaned and put a hand to the back of his neck. “Damn,” he said. “Those things are strong.”   
Fortunately, there was no damage, not that there ever was. These repulsors were for training only. 

Tony chuckled and reached a hand down, which Peter took with a nod. As soon as he was up, the kid crossed his arms and said, 

“Why ask about Green Goblin though?” 

Tony shrugged. “Just curious.” 

Peter’s face lit up. “Are you worried about me?” 

“Oh, god,” Tony said with a groan. 

“You so are.” Peter laughed, throwing his head back. “Aw, that’s awesome. Thanks, Mr. Stark. That’s cool of you.” 

“Whatever,” Tony grumbled, adjusting the repulsor on his hand. “Let’s just get back to business.” He raised his hand. “Don’t get too cocky.” 

Peter shrugged and grinned. “What can I say? I learned from the best.” 

“Oh, you are going to pay for that one, Mr. Parker.” 

 

Much like most things in Tony’s life, the trip to Oscorp wasn’t planned, it just sort of happened. It was a Thursday about a month after Peter and Harry had rekindled their friendship, and Tony was… just a bit curious. Mostly, he needed to check up on Norman Osborn and make sure he was behaving. That and, he wanted to make sure Harry could be trusted. Tony still hadn’t let go of the fact that Peter could have defeated the Vulture much easier had he had his suit. Since then, he’d resolved to keep more of an eye out for the kid. 

So that day he drove up to Oscorp tower, parking his car and walking in through the front door. He was Tony Stark after all. He could do what he wanted. And of course, no one stopped him. The security guard at the front desk looked up then right back down, eyes wide. Tony walked straight past him and to the elevators. 

As he entered, he pressed the button for the thirtieth floor. To be honest, his choice was mostly random. Though, Oscorp’s labs started on that floor, and that seemed like as good a place as any to start. 

The ride up the elevator was entertaining if anything. Anyone who got on seemed eager to get off, after looking at Tony. He wasn’t supposed to be here, of course. This company was supposed to be his rival. It was more of an annoyance than anything, though. Nobody could compete with Stark Industries these days, not with Pepper at the helm. Still, Tony did need to make sure they weren’t holding anything that might pose a real danger to SI, or the population in general. Tony had his hands full with one genetically altered kid. He didn’t need any more. 

When he got off at the thirtieth floor, he was a little surprised. He hadn’t visited Oscorp in some time, and so the layout of their labs had faded from his mind. But it looked damn nice. Not that he was ever going to admit that. The floor was layed out like an octagon, with eight hallways branching off from the main area, hallways separated not by walls but by thick layers of fogged glass. In the center of it all was an enormous hologram with the giant word ‘Oscorp’ spinning around slowly. A bit ostentatious, not that Tony had any right to talk. 

Footsteps approached from his right, and Tony looked up to see a wide-eyed, shaking scientist. His pale skin shone with sweat, and he rubbed his bald head with a hand. Tony adjusted the sunglasses on his face. 

“Uh…you’re not supposed to be here…” The scientist began, looking behind him. 

Tony didn’t even respond. The other man looked behind him again, and Tony frowned. 

“What?” he asked. “Something there?” 

“No, just me,” someone said, stepping around the scientist. The new man had light skin and greying brushed-back hair, wearing a clean brown suit. Tony didn’t need to ask who he was. He already knew. 

Norman Osborn had always been a subtle man, silent, preferring to scheme in the shadows. Tony had always hated that about him. Even before he’d been kidnapped in Afghanistan, he’d despised the head of Oscorp. 

“Tony Stark,” Norman said, walking up to him. “How nice of you to join us.” He held out his hand. 

Tony didn’t take it and just raised his eyebrows. 

“Yes, us. You see, I was just giving a tour. I believe you know this boy, actually.” 

It was two boys who stepped out of one of the lab doors. The first, Tony didn’t recognize him. But in a moment, the clean dark hair and slim-fitting casual suit gave the kid away as Harry Osborn, Norman’s son. 

The second boy made Tony’s stomach drop. 

What was Peter doing here? Because that couldn’t be anyone else, not with those barely-contained curls and open grin. Peter looked over at Tony and waved, his smile widening. Tony gave a half-hearted one back, an expression that faded as Norman placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder and spoke a few words to him. 

Logically, Tony knew he shouldn’t be afraid for Peter. Norman was a snake, but he wasn’t truly evil. He wouldn’t actually hurt Peter. So Tony blinked away the suspicion and shoved it deep in his chest. 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter said, walking over. “What’re you doing here?” 

“Just checking in,” Tony said, hoping to remain casual. Peter didn’t need to know he was suspicious about his new friend. 

And of course, Peter turned and waved Harry over. “Mr. Stark, this is Harry.” 

The boy walked over and extended his hand. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir,” he said. 

Polite, Tony noted in his head. That was good. Still, he kept his senses on alert as he releases the boy’s hand and said, 

“So you’ve been friends with Peter for a long time?” 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Since middle school, right, Pete?” He looked back at the other boy. Peter grinned back, and the two boys performed some complicated secret handshake that Tony didn’t even want to know about. 

How was this possible? Two kids who represented rival companies were best friends. Tony had hated Oscorp for as long as he could remember. There was a rivalry that couldn’t be explained between the corporations. It was probably because of the advanced tech they both used. Every time Stark Industries advanced, Oscorp followed soon after. But Oscorp had always seemed shady to Tony. Messing with biology couldn’t be a good idea. And that had been proven with Peter’s accidental spider bite. Still, Tony couldn’t explain away the sight in front of him. Peter and Harry, best friends. The universe really did work in mysterious ways. 

“Hey, remember that time we snuck into the chem room, to take the candy in Ms. Johnson’s desk?” Harry said, pointing at Peter. 

“Obviously,” Peter said. He noticed Tony’s gaze and said, “Ms. Johnson kept a stash of smarties and starbursts in her desk drawer.” 

Tony nodded. “Huh.” He didn’t understand in the slightest. 

“You should tell him about the time we skipped gym cause they were doing the fitness test, so we pretended to have strep.” Harry laughed. 

“Oh my god, I forgot about that,” Peter said, shoving Harry with his shoulder and grinning. There was something in that grin, in the way Peter kept Harry’s gaze, that made Tony pause. 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

Tony closed his eyes for a moment and let out a breath. Of course that’s what this was about. Peter had a crush. 

Tony had been in relationships that would never have worked out. But this one? This one beat all of those. These boys came from rivals. Oscorp and Stark Industries could never get along. There was no way Peter and Harry could make a relationship work, even if Harry liked Peter back. Norman would never allow his son to associate with Stark Industries. Tony didn’t even know if the man would let his son date a boy at all, but that was a whole other issue. 

Tony had seen enough for the day. He put a hand on Peter’s shoulder and dragged him away from the conversation a bit before saying, 

“You be careful, okay? Osborn doesn’t mess around.” 

Peter nodded. “I’ll be fine. Harry’s a good guy.” 

“No, I mean…” Tony snuck a look behind him. Harry was looking at his father, with complete obedience in his eyes. “Look out for Norman Osborn. He’s…not a good guy.” 

“Oh,” Peter said, eyes widening. “Um, okay.” 

“I’m going, but one more thing.” Tony dropped his voice to a low whisper. “If you run into the Goblin again today, be careful.”

“I always am,” Peter said with a shrug, and the kind of nonchalance only teenagers could give. “It’ll be fine.” 

“Okay then.” Tony backed up and said louder, “And make sure to finish that work I gave you.” Peter nodded, so Tony walked over to Norman. He didn’t need to say anything. He just nodded, hoping the threat in his gaze was enough. Norman nodded back. 

With that, Tony stepped onto the elevator and left. He really hoped Peter wouldn’t run into the Goblin again today. The kid had school tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter's POV this time! I posted this one early cause I'm really excited! I can't wait for you guys to see where this goes ;)

Peter’s POV  
After Mr. Stark left, Peter let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. There was something about the tension between Mr. Osborn and Mr. Stark that unnerved him. Obviously there was some history there. He’d ask later, during his weekend at the compound maybe. That sounded okay. 

His attention was caught as Harry nudged him with his elbow. 

“Hey,” Harry said. “Wanna keep looking around?” 

“Sure,” Peter said, shrugging, hoping for nonchalance. His friendship with Harry was still new, and he didn’t want to screw it up. Okay, it wasn’t new new, but this was a chance at a fresh start. He didn’t want the other boy to disappear this time. That and Harry made his chest flutter a little. But that was a whole other deal Peter had trouble thinking about. 

“So Father, would you mind continuing the tour?” Harry asked, turning to Mr. Osborn. Peter swallowed and looked down. He didn’t necessarily mind that Harry and his father spoke to each other so formally. It just didn’t feel right for family to talk that way. Peter and Mr. Stark didn’t. Peter flushed at that thought. Mr. Stark wasn’t his dad. 

Mr. Osborn stared his son down for a moment, then looked at his watch. 

“I’m afraid I can’t, boys. I’ll have to leave you here.” He looked at Harry, then Peter. “You two can keep yourselves in line?” 

“Of course, Father,” Harry said at the same time Peter said, 

“Sure.” 

The man left, walking into the elevator. After the doors closed behind him, Harry let out a breath. 

“So what do you want to do?” he asked. 

Peter perked up. “Show me more of the labs?” 

“Sure,” Harry said, waving Peter into one of the hallways. 

Peter tried to keep his heartbeat slow as they walked through the hall, but he’d been on edge ever since Mr. Osborn had led him into the labs. No one had any idea Spiderman had gotten his powers here, much less that Peter was the web-slinger, but these labs still made him a little uncomfortable. The memory of the spider bite was fresh in his mind as Harry led him into the first room. They couldn’t go in of course, since they didn’t have proper gear on, but the boys lingered in the door and looked in. 

The room was filled with small creatures inside cages. There were some mice, a mole, even a few ferrets. They chittered and squeaked, rattling their cages. Peter gulped. 

“So what’s this for?” he said, as if he didn’t already know. 

“Dad’s using these animals for genetic testing,” Harry said. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest. Peter had a passing thought about how good Harry looked in the casual suit. 

“Yeah.” Peter nodded. “Does he use them for anything? Like, anything big yet?” 

Harry shook his head. “No. Though he did get pretty good results with some spiders a couple years ago. Could’ve been awesome if you ask me, but the scientists never gave the green light for human testing.” 

“Oh. That’s…a shame,” Peter said, looking away. 

Harry shrugged. “I guess. I wonder if Dad will ever get a green light sometimes.” He looked down. “I mean, I want to see him do well. You know?” 

Peter bit his bottom lip. He put a hand on Harry’s shoulder and smiled. “He will. You’ll see.” 

Harry blinked, and his cheeks flushed. Peter stared, trying to memorize the look. “Thanks, man,” Harry said, the corners of his mouth turning up. 

The boys stood there for a second before they both blinked and stepped back. 

Peter cleared his throat. “So uh, anything else you got to show me?” 

Harry nodded, a little too eager. “Yeah, dude. Come on.” He stepped out of the doorway, closing it behind them. “It’s down this way. You’re gonna love it,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye. Peter got a little shiver. 

Harry led him down the hall, walking for a full five minutes past the fogged glass walls. Peter heard scientists talking in the adjacent halls, listening to their conversations about the various experiments. It was nothing important, so it all went in one ear and out the other. He paused, though, when Harry came to a stop outside a door marked ‘Private’. 

“This is my father’s private lab,” Harry said, voice low. “We’re technically not supposed to go in here, but…” He held up a key and dangled it in front of Peter’s face. “Dad has an extra copy of the key to get in. He doesn’t know I have this, so don’t tell.” 

“Why isn’t his lab locked with like, a finger pad or something?” Peter asked. “Isn’t that more private?” 

“You’re right,” Harry said. “But nobody knows where it is but me and him. He wants it to look like a security room or something, so people don’t go in. Pretty smart, huh?”  
“Yeah.” 

“Now come on, before someone finds us,” Harry said, putting the key in the lock. He opened the door and ushered Peter into the dark room. Peter heard the other boy come in and close the door behind him. 

He felt Harry’s breath on his face. The close proximity in the dark made chills run down his spine. 

“So uh, the lights?” Peter said. 

“Right.” Light soon flooded Peter’s vision, revealing the lab before him. His eyes widened at the beautiful wide counterspace, the vials of green liquid stacked on top of one another, and the pristine lab equipment. The whole room smelled of something burnt. A closet stood to Peter’s right, covering the entire wall, with five doors. He knew there must be more equipment in there. 

“This is amazing,” Peter said, turning to Harry with a wide grin. “So your dad works in here?” 

“Yep. He doesn’t know I go in here though.” Harry wandered over to Peter, pointing to the green vials. “I’m not sure what those are for, though. I mean, I’m not about to ask. Wouldn’t it be cool if it were like, a super soldier serum or something though?” He looked at Peter, who grinned in return. 

“That would be pretty cool. But you’re dad’s not super buff, so…” 

“Yeah, maybe not.” Harry shrugged. “Still…” He looked over to the corner, and Peter followed his gaze to see another door. “Yeah, there’s more. But see…” He pointed. “That one’s actually got a finger pad.” 

Peter looked and saw the place for Norman Osborn to put his hand. “Oh, okay.” 

“Sorry this is all I can show you,” Harry said. 

“It’s okay,” Peter said, looking at the other boy. “I mean, this is still awesome.” 

Harry looked down and smiled, cheeks flushing. “Thanks.” His eyes widened and he said, “I mean, it’s not mine. It’s my dad’s. My dad’s lab. But still, thanks for uh…coming? Yeah, thanks for coming with me to see it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry. Uh…” 

Peter laughed. “It’s okay.” He stepped toward the door. “We should probably get out of here, though.” 

“Yeah,” Harry said, scratching the back of his neck. 

Peter put his hand on the knob to open the door when he heard the footsteps. A cold shot of fear plunged through his body and he looked back to Harry. Someone was about to come in. Without another though he whispered, 

“Hide.” 

“What?” Harry said, brow lowered. 

“Just uh…is there somewhere to hide? Someone’s coming.” 

Harry’s eyes widened in understanding, and he ran to the closet, opening the fifth door. He shoved aside some boxes, pushing them deeper into the closet, and beckoned Peter inside. Soon the two boys were squeezed together, facing each other in the darkness. Peter’s heart made a staccato rhythm in his chest, and not entirely because someone was opening the door. He could feel Harry’s breath on his face. He was…close, then. 

The door to the lab closed, and a voice sighed. “Finally.” The boys gasped. It was Norman Osborn. “Time to head out again.” Steps came closer, and Peter closed his eyes. His spider sense was on overdrive, making the back of his neck burn. One of the closet doors opened, and Peter felt the light of the room on his back. He prayed that Mr. Osborn wouldn’t see him. If he did, Peter would never see Harry again…

The door clicked closed. 

Peter and Harry both let out a breath. 

The footsteps stopped. 

Peter held his breath, and gripped the front of Harry’s suit, hoping the boy would get the message. Don’t move, Peter wanted to say. Please don’t move. 

The footsteps resumed. Peter leaned his forehead against Harry’s in relief. A door opened. Peter knew it must be the door across the room, the door to the other part of Mr. Osborn’s labs. 

Only after the door close did both boys let out a long exhale. 

“That was scary,” Peter whispered. 

“Yeah,” Harry said. Peter expected the other boy to open the door so they could leave. They needed to get out of there. Peter didn’t need spider sense to know that. But Harry didn’t move. Neither did Peter. Their breaths mingled in the darkness, and Peter could hear Harry’s fast heartbeat. 

“It’s great to see you, Peter,” Harry said. “It’s been awhile.” 

“Yeah,” Peter said, voice low. “Been awhile.” 

Before Peter knew it, Harry was leaning in. Peter held his breath. This was what he’d wanted. So he let his eyes close. He titled his head forward just a bit, feeling Harry’s breath against his. Come on Harry, he thought. 

The door across the room opened with a slam. The boys jumped apart, and Peter’s hand slapped against his mouth. He’d just almost kissed Harry Osborn. As his mind processed what had just happened, Mr. Osborn walked angrily outside the closet, opening one of the other doors, muttering to himself. 

“I’ll get him today,” he said. “I’ll get that bastard.”

Peter listened hard, but the man didn’t say anything else. That sounded pretty suspicious. But then again, everything did to a kid with spider powers. He shook his head and leaned against Harry, praying the door to their section of the closet wouldn’t open. It didn’t. Peter kept still as the door to the hallway opened and closed. 

He didn’t move for almost a full minute after that, and neither did Harry. 

“God, that was scary,” Harry said. 

“Just a little, yeah.” 

“So uh…we should get out.” 

Peter nodded. “Probably.” 

Peter opened the door to the closet slowly, almost expecting Mr. Osborn to come back in, but nothing happened, so the boy stepped out into the light of the lab. Harry followed soon after. Peter looked around, and when nothing jumped out, he sighed. 

“So what do you think that was about?” Harry asked, turning around. “The whole ‘I’ll get him today, or I don’t get him at all’ stuff.” 

Peter crossed his arms. “Um…not sure?” He gulped. “Doesn’t sound too bad. Probably talking about a formula. You know nerds love to talk about their projects like they’re people. I do it all the time. Like Karen. That’s my…phone. My phone.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah.” 

“You call your phone Karen?” Harry said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yes.” 

“I mean, ok.” Harry nudged his shoulder with a laugh. “So…let’s go?” He reached for the lights, clicking them off as Peter opened the door. 

“Yeah.” Peter gestured Harry out, closing the door behind them. Harry took a second to lock it, then without warning wrapped Peter in a hug. 

This might be the death of me, he thought. The worst part wasn’t even the contact. It was that he could hear Harry’s heartbeat was going just as fast as his own. So it was mutual. Still, if he died, he’d die happy. 

Harry released him, and Peter already missed the contact. He was so warm. 

Peter cleared his throat and started back down the hall, Harry following close behind. They walked in silence, though Peter kept sneaking glances when he thought the other boy wasn’t looking. 

They had just reached the center of the floor with the hologram when Peter’s phone started blaring. He yelped, yanking the phone out and slamming his finger on it to silence it. When the noise finally stopped, he sighed. 

So he had to go. Green Goblin again. Well, damn. 

“Sorry uh…gotta go,” Peter said, pointing toward the elevator. “Mr. Stark needs me.” 

“Already?” Harry said, sounding disappointed enough that Peter’s heart leapt in his chest. 

“Yeah…we can hang out again soon though. Wanna get lunch sometime?” Peter spoke the words before his brain could stop him. 

Harry’s eyes widened and he smiled. “Yeah. How about Friday? I can text you some cafés near here.” 

“Cool.” Peter grinned. “So um…see you?” He backed up toward the elevator. 

“See you.” 

Just as Peter was turning around, Harry put a hand on his shoulder and twisted him around. The question of why hung on Peter’s lips, but Harry pressed a kiss to the boy’s cheek before he could say a word. 

“Um…later.” Harry backed up, looking down. 

“Yeah. Later,” Peter said, his voice small. He rushed to the elevator and slammed the button, and only when the doors closed and he was going down did he take off his jacket and scream into it. This really was the best day ever.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the irregular updating, I've been pretty busy lately. But I've got a three week break before I go back to school, so I'll be updating more, I promise! Thanks so much for reading!

Peter dodged another pumpkin bomb, letting it fly into the river and watching the explosion of water before shouting, 

“Hey! You could have hit me.” 

The Green Goblin laughed. “You can’t run away forever, Spider-man.” 

Peter frowned behind the mask, then launched himself up and over a nearby building, landing neatly on the ledge of it. He heard the engines of the Goblin’s glider before he saw him, so he ducked down and clung to the side of the building, letting the Goblin fly overhead. 

“Come out, come out, wherever you are… I feel like catching a spider today.” 

“Well you won’t get this one,” Peter whispered as he extended a hand. His web shot out from his wrist and gripped the edge of the glider, then he pulled with all his strength. His intention was to knock the Goblin off course, but the man just cackled and turned his glider around, aiming straight for Peter. The boy yelped and ducked, letting the Goblin smash himself into the brick wall. 

Peter jumped to the opposite building, a warehouse, sticking to the wall and watching as the Goblin appeared out of the explosion of dust and bricks. 

The Green Goblin didn’t look all that scary at first sight. He looked like a Halloween costume gone wrong, with his purple pointed hat and plastic green mask, plus the pumpkin bombs he liked to show off. But a closer look revealed his true nature. His body was coated in dangerous green armor. His arms and legs were lithe and muscled, and he looked like he could bench press ten times his weight. It disturbed Peter how much the guy looked like a super soldier. 

His little moment of thought cost him, because the Goblin came at him again. Peter looked up toward the rim of the warehouse and shot a web, pulling himself up before he could be slammed into the wall. He ran up the slanted roof, and squeaked as the Goblin appeared over the lip of the warehouse roof. He looked away and saw a cell tower not far from him, so he shot a web and yanked himself toward it. He landed neatly in a crouch on a metal bar. 

“Come on, can’t give a guy a break?” He called to the Goblin. “I mean—ah!” A glider missile came flying at him, and he leaped down to the ground to avoid it. He breathed a sigh of relief when the cell tower didn’t fall over, the only signs of damage being a few missing or melted metal bars. 

“You don’t get any breaks, Spider-man!” The Goblin laughed. “Maybe you might once you’re dead.” 

“Not happening, dude,” Peter said, shooting another web at the bottom of the glider and pulling. 

This time he seemed to have a bit more success, because the Goblin screamed and crashed into the pavement, landing on his arm. Peter didn’t really mind that, though. But what caught his attention was the green armor plating that came off at the impact. Time seemed to slow as Peter looked at what lay underneath, right against the Goblin’s skin. 

It was a little green vial, injecting liquid right into the Goblin’s veins. 

Peter moved before the Goblin could get up, reaching for his arm. He needed that vial. He needed to make sure. This couldn’t mean what he thought it could, right? But Mr. Osborn’s words from earlier in the afternoon had been so specific. 

“I’ll get him today. I’ll get that bastard.” 

Please no, Peter thought. Please. 

The Goblin growled and leapt to his feet, but Peter already had his arm. He reached for the vial, and when the Goblin caught onto his intentions, he screamed and pulled a pumpkin bomb out, throwing it in Peter’s face. 

“Nope,” Peter said, ducking and shooting a web at the pumpkin bomb. It stuck to the ground and exploded, but the detonation was contained by the web. 

Peter turned back to the Goblin, ready to grab the vial, but a hissing sound came from behind him. He turned to see the glider rushing straight for him. 

He cried out and ducked, trying to keep a hold on the Green Goblin’s arm. The man jumped up anyway, latching onto the glider. He leaped on top of it and attached his feet in, though the glider was sputtering smoke. 

“No!” Peter shouted, shooting out a web. The Goblin flew up, avoiding his shot. Peter released the web with a growl. 

“Won the battle, Spider-man,” the Goblin called. “Not the war.” 

With that, he turned and flew off. 

Peter took a deep breath and bowed his head. He drew a hand over his face, keeping the other tight in a fist. After a moment he opened it, staring down at a little green vial. 

“Time to find out what you are, Goblin,” he said to himself. 

 

Peter tapped on the door to the lab at the compound, and Dr. Banner looked up from the holo-screens in front of him. He opened the door and said, 

“Peter. What are you doing here? It’s Friday. Aren’t you supposed to come tomorrow?” 

“I need something looked at,” Peter said, not wasting any time. He held up the green vial. “Can you help me look at this?” 

Dr. Banner took it in his hand, spinning it and holding it up to the light. 

“Sure. What uh, what is it?” 

“I took it off the Green Goblin.” 

Dr. Banner paled a bit, but cleared his throat and nodded. He looked back at Peter and said, 

“Let’s see what this is.” 

He stepped over to a machine, and Peter tapped his foot on the ground. 

“Have you been having much trouble with the Goblin?” Dr. Banner asked. 

“No,” Peter said, on instinct. “Well I mean, yeah, a little,” he admitted. “He’s really annoying.” Peter stepped over to a table and leapt on top of it, sitting down and kicking his feet back and forth. “I mean, he doesn’t leave me alone. But I can handle it, it’s no problem. I’m fine.” 

“Sounds like you’re handling things okay, from what I hear.” Dr. Banner dipped a dropper into the vial, then dripped some of the liquid onto a dish, which he inserted into the machine. “He uh, doesn’t seem too bad. The Goblin.” 

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Peter said, biting his forefinger nail. He wasn’t going to be honest, and say he really was nervous. The Goblin was on par with the Vulture sometimes. The guy had almost killed Peter a few times, just in the past week. Those pumpkin bombs were fast, and the missiles the Goblin shot from his glider were always just narrowly missed, aimed to perfection. How long was it until somebody died? 

Peter didn’t have any deaths on his conscience. Not at the moment. He knew one day he would though. The Avengers had the deaths of countless people on their shoulders. That was just part of the job. But could Peter handle it when the day came? When there was someone he couldn’t save? Sure, he’d already kind of had that with Uncle Ben. But he was a real hero now, not a novice like he’d been back then. And heroes didn’t always save everybody. 

Peter shook his head, shaking off the dark thoughts. Dr. Banner was mumbling to himself as he looked at statistics on screen. 

“Hm…this looks like…but that’s impossible. This can’t be right…too dangerous…” 

“Dr. Banner?” Peter jumped off the table and stepped beside the scientist. “You got any results?” 

The man looked down and blinked, as if shaken out of a trance. “Yeah. Um, yes. I think so.” Dr. Banner looked up and called, “Uh, Friday? Can you get Tony and Rhodes down here? I need some more opinions on this. Call Nat while you’re at it, also.” 

“Of course, Dr. Banner,” The AI said from the ceiling. 

In moments Peter and Dr. Banner were joined by Mr. Stark, Mr. Rhodes, and Ms. Romanov. Peter smiled at the first two, then gave a small wave to Ms. Romanov. The woman still scared him a little, if he was honest. 

“I was just looking at uh…Peter, you want to explain?” Dr. Banner gestured to Peter. The boy jumped a little and said, 

“Uh, sure. Yeah. That’s cool.” He bounced on his toes, crossed his arms, uncrossed his arms, and said, “So um, I brought back this vial right? I got it off the Green Goblin. Turns out he keeps this liquid injected like right into his arm.” Peter held up his arm and gestured around it, trying to show what he saw earlier on the Goblin. “It was kind of creepy. Anyway, uh,” He cleared his throat, realizing he probably sounded lame. “I brought it here, cause I thought it might be worth looking at. And uh…” He looked at Dr. Banner, hoping he would take over. 

The man took the hint and said, “I found something…bad. This isn’t just a serum.” He pointed to the results. “It’s an attempt at a super soldier serum.” 

The room was dead quiet. Until Mr. Stark groaned and said, 

“When will people stop making those? I thought they’d learned, the past five hundred times that’s failed.” 

“I don’t know, Tones, apparently people just don’t give up,” Mr. Rhodes said. 

Ms. Romanov narrowed her eyes and said, “There’s more, isn’t there?” 

Dr. Banner nodded. “There is.” He swallowed and said, “This serum has some effects I’ve never seen before. I had time to do a quick simulation or two, and well…” He took off his glasses and rubbed them with his lab coat, then put them back on. “There are symptoms, besides enhanced strength and speed.” 

“Symptoms?” Ms. Romanov asked. 

“Aggression. Fits of rage. And…insanity.” He shook his head. “The Green Goblin isn’t just weird. He’s clinically insane.” 

All eyes turned to Peter. The boy looked down, rubbing his toe against the floor. 

“You gonna be ok fighting him, Pete?” Mr. Stark asked. 

“Yeah. I mean, yeah. It’s just…” He cleared his throat. “That’s not what I was worried about.” 

Ms. Romanov raised her eyebrows. 

“I need to know who it belonged to,” Peter said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. He had his suspicions, after seeing the vial. He just really, really hoped he was wrong. Harry would be devastated if he found out his father was hurting people. Peter hoped with all his heart his theory was wrong. 

“No,” Dr. Banner said, and Peter’s heart fell. “There aren’t any fingerprints on the vial.” 

Peter sighed. “Oh. Okay.” He crossed his arms and bit his lip. With a quick look around, he stepped between Mr. Rhodes and Mr. Stark and headed towards the door. 

“Peter,” Mr. Rhodes said, stopping the boy. 

“Yeah?” 

“You sure you’re okay?” 

Peter took a deep breath. “…yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” He tried not to look at Mr. Stark, who’d see right through him. With that, he stepped through the door to the labs. 

As he went down the hall, his phone pinged with a text. A smile came to his face as he saw who the text was from. 

It was time to meet Harry.


	5. Chapter 5

Tony’s POV

It wasn’t often Tony got to walk around New York by himself, especially on a nice evening like this. Okay technically he wasn’t by himself, Happy was following loosely behind him; but the point was, he was free. Dressed in casual clothes with a pair of bad sunglasses and a hood over his head, he blended in with the citizens of the city. No one stopped him for a picture, or asked for his autograph. Granted, he did get a few double takes, but he didn’t worry about those. 

Was this how Peter felt? Hiding in plain sight? It was nice. There was a kind of thrill that came with a secret identity that Tony would never feel, and though this was as close as he got, he liked it. In this moment, he could understand why Peter kept his secret. Nobody knew him, and yet everyone did. Peter had once told him about a conversation he’d had with his friend, Ned. ‘What’s it like to be famous when nobody knows it’s you?’ he’d said. This was what it was like. This right here. Walking around with normal people, blending in like a chameleon, yet knowing that you are completely different. 

Tony shook the thoughts from his head, and checked his watch. He had about an hour left before he had to leave for the compound again. Maybe he should shop around. Get something nice for Pepper. Or Rhodey. Or Peter, maybe. 

A picture slipped through Tony’s mind of Peter from a few days ago. He’d looked so anxious. Right before he’d slipped out the door of the lab, the boy had looked more scared than Tony had ever seen him. His skin had paled, and his hands clenched into tight fists. What could scare him so much? It had to be the Goblin. But Peter had never shown much fear of the man before. Was it because he knew he was insane? 

No. Peter hadn’t seemed bothered by that fact. He’d asked instead if Bruce knew who the vial belonged to. He’d been disappointed when the man didn’t know. Tony stopped on the sidewalk for a split second as the realization hit him. 

Peter must know who the Goblin was. 

Or at least, he had a suspicion. Whoever it was must be scaring him. Who could scare Peter that much? Tony didn’t have a clue. Peter didn’t have any enemies, that he knew of. Tony racked his brain for a few more seconds, trying to think of someone, but no one came to mind. Everyone loved Peter. That was both a blessing and a curse, if Tony was honest. On one hand, it made the kid’s life easier. On the other hand, it made it damn near impossible to find out if anyone hated him. And when Tony needed to know that, his life got a lot more difficult. 

Tony took a breath and crossed a street. He knew he should leave Peter to his own job. Independence was good for the kid. After all, Tony wouldn’t always be around to protect him, and he needed to learn some things on his own. Still, Tony couldn’t stop his own protective instincts. His dad-mode, as the other Avengers liked to joke. He wanted to keep an eye out for Peter. He didn’t want to see the boy looking as afraid as he had the other day. Such plain fear on Peter’s face had made a pit in Tony’s stomach that he hadn’t gotten rid of. So he resolved to do whatever he could to make things right. To give a smile back to that kid. 

Still, things seemed okay for now. Peter was dealing with the Goblin well, and no casualties had been reported. Tony still found that fact amazing. It was one of Peter’s best trait, and to Tony, the thing that made him most qualified to be a hero. Peter was the future of the Avengers. And a world with no casualties sounded like a wonderful one indeed. Maybe Tony should wait to help Peter, then. He was doing fine on his own. Tony nodded to himself. 

Then he stopped. 

He turned around and stared at two boys sitting inside at a café table against a glass window, laughing together. 

Peter Parker and Harry Osborn. 

Peter looked happier than Tony had ever seen him. A light blush colored his cheeks, and his grin was wider than the Hudson River. The boy across from him looked just as carefree. Tony knew Harry Osborn wasn’t the happiest kid. How could he be, with the father he had? But here he was, looking at Peter like he’d hung the moon in the sky. And Peter looked at Harry the same way. 

Tony closed his eyes and took a breath. He turned away before either boy could see him, and kept walking. 

A myriad of thoughts went through his mind. This was a doomed relationship. How could it be anything else? This was like Romeo and Juliet for the modern age. There was no way this could work out. 

Then again…Peter had a way of getting what he wanted. Tony knew he wanted to be with Harry. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. Maybe they could make it work. Maybe. 

After all, he and Pepper had found a way, and now they were getting married. Could Peter have that future ahead of him? Granted, Tony hoped Peter wouldn’t take ten years to marry his partner. 

Tony sniffed and adjusted his sunglasses, looking up at the sunset. This was a complicated situation if there ever was one. But Peter would work things out. Tony had faith in him. 

 

Peter’s POV 

Peter laughed and took another sip of his tea. MJ had been pressuring him to drink it lately, and he found it pretty nice. Still, his attention was captured by the boy sitting across from him. 

Harry looked amazing in the light from the sun outside. The orange and red of the sunset splayed across his pale face and made him look even more handsome than usual, if that was possible. The boy brushed his hair out of his face and said, 

“But yeah, I was super excited when my dad said I could talk to you.” 

“It’s awesome,” Peter said, leaning his chin on his palm, grinning. 

“Yeah.” Harry leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee. “So what about you? Anything special going on?” 

Other than getting to hang out with you? Peter closed his mouth before he could let those embarrassing words slip out. Anything special? Not really. Except…

“There’s been this guy.” 

“Oh. Do I need to be jealous?” 

“What?” Peter blushed. “No, no, not like that.” 

Harry laughed. “Relax man, I was joking. Keep going.” 

Peter relaxed and fidgeted with his jacket zipper. “Well uh, we’ve been getting into a lot of fights.” 

“Like physical fights?” Harry raised his eyebrows. “Doesn’t sound like you, Pete.” 

“Yeah, it’s not fun. He’s really weird, and creepy, and destructive and stuff. He hasn’t beat me yet though. But we just keep fighting.” Peter sighed. “I wish I could just beat him and be done with all this, but he just keeps coming back.” 

Harry leaned forward. “Do you know why? Has he said?” 

“No. I mean, I think he just hates me.” That was accurate enough, right? “Like, really hates me. I’m pretty sure he’s crazy.” Peter chuckled and crossed his arms. “I mean, he is crazy. And Mr. Stark is counting on me to finish this, and I’m trying, you know? It’s just hard.” 

“Tony Stark knows about this?” Harry said. 

“Yeah…” Peter trailed off. In his head, alarm bells were going off. How could he possibly make up an excuse for this? “He…likes talking to me, I guess? We talk about a lot of stuff…in the internship.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Lots of talking.” 

Harry nodded, as if that was a good explanation. Peter breathed out, relaxing. 

“Thanks, Harry,” he said. “It’s uh…nice to talk to someone about this.” 

The other boy reached his hand across the table and put it on top of Peter’s. Peter gulped. His heart was pounding out of his chest. Harry had to be hearing it. 

Relax, he told himself. Not everyone has super hearing. That thought did nothing to slow his heart down, though. 

“I’m always here if you need me,” Harry said. 

“Thanks, man.” Peter exhaled and bowed his head. “I guess I’m just stressed. Sorry for being boring.” 

Harry shook his head. “No. You’re not boring. You’re like, the funnest guy I know. Never a dull moment with you around.” 

Peter couldn’t help it and laughed. You have no idea, he thought to himself. 

Harry’s phone dinged, and he took it out. 

“Aw,” he said. “I’ve got to go, Pete. It’s curfew.” 

“I can’t belive you have a curfew, dude,” Peter said, standing with Harry. “That’s so not fair.” 

“Well, it’s life,” Harry said with a shrug. “I don’t blame my dad for it. He knows what’s best for me.” 

Peter paused as he pulled his backpack onto his shoulder. 

“You really love him, don’t you?” 

Harry smiled. “Well of course I do.” 

Peter nodded. “Yeah. Right.” An image flashed through his mind of Mr. Stark. He blinked. That was weird. 

“So I’ll uh…see you later?” Harry asked as they exited the café. 

“Yeah, dude. Later.” 

“Cool.” Harry pulled out his phone and began walking the other way. 

As soon as the other boy was out of sight, Peter ran to the side of the building and into the alley. It was go time. 

“All right,” he whispered to himself as he undressed and pulled on the spider suit out of his backpack. “Let’s see if I can’t catch a Goblin.” 

Peter jumped to the top of the building, then webbed to another higher one. After sticking the landing on the roof, he webbed his backpack down. He stepped onto the lip of the roof and stared out at the city. 

This was his city. At times like these, that’s how it felt. When he stood on the edge of a building and looked out on New York, he was on top of the world. This was his home. And he protected it. 

Peter still couldn’t believe how much the public loved him. People wore Spider-man t-shirts, or Spider-man backpacks, or had Spider-man phone cases in their hands. Every time he saw one, Peter got a little shiver down his spine. They believed in him. He was kind of famous, and that gave him a thrill that nothing else did. And it instilled in him the belief that he needed to keep them safe. He was strong enough. He could do this. 

He pictured Harry in his mind as he prepared to leap. And maybe that was his mistake. Because he didn’t hear the glider approaching behind him. Because he didn’t feel the cloth over his mouth until it was too late. He barely felt it as he slipped out of consciousness.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As some of you may notice, this scene is inspired by the Spiderman and Green Goblin's rooftop interaction from Spiderman (2002), and some lines are even direct from that scene. It's a great scene, and I knew it belonged in this fic. Enjoy!

“Wake up, little spider. Wake up.” 

Peter opened his eyes and realized he was still in the suit. In his mind, he jumped up and webbed the Green Goblin down. But he couldn’t move his body. His mind raced. What the hell was going on? 

“You’re not dead. Yet,” the Goblin said, pacing in front of him. “Just paralyzed. Temporarily.” 

Peter tried to open his mouth. But he couldn’t. He looked around as best he could, though. It was nighttime already, and he lay on a roof. Would May, or Mr. Stark, be worried about him? Was anyone looking? 

“So.” The Goblin stepped closer. “I see you took something of mine.” He opened his arm plating and there sat another vial. “I’ve replaced it already, of course. But that was my serum. You stole from me.” 

Peter’s blood ran cold as the man came even closer, standing over him. 

“So I’m here to do what must be done.” 

Oh god, Peter thought. He took a breath and wished he could cry out. Wished he could kick the Goblin against a wall, put him behind bars so he’d never hurt people again. But Peter could only lay there as the Goblin paced once more. 

“I’m going to offer you a deal.” 

Peter paused. His breath caught. 

“Yes, a surprise, isn’t it. Well, you’re a clever boy. I’m sure you’ll know the right answer.” He knelt down. “You work with me.” He was silent for a moment before he said, “Now you can’t answer now of course, but later on, you will. Think of all we could do together. We could create. We could make more like you, more spiders that could bite more people. Or we could destroy.” He stood and walked a few feet away. “Tear down buildings and kill thousands of innocents until we ruled the city. Until we ruled the world. Or…if you say no, we’ll just keep fighting. Again and again, on and on until people die in our fights, then we kill each other. Is that what you want, Spider-man?” 

Peter closed his eyes and took a long breath. What was he supposed to do? He could accept. That way he would make sure no one would die. Then he could always turn on the Goblin later and take him down that way. 

But that would go against everything he stood for as Spider-man. And besides, no one had died in his fights with the Goblin so far. He had a zero-casualty record in fact, and he was proud of that. Surely that wouldn’t be broken any time soon. And besides, he had Mr. Stark and the rest of the Accords-following Avengers to count on. That was enough, right? 

“But think,” the Goblin said, kneeling down, “of what we could do together. Are you sure it doesn’t tempt you, not even a little? The thought of controlling the people of this city? Killing until they accept you and obey you? Don’t you want them to know who you are?” 

“That’s not my style,” Peter said, his voice coming back at last. 

The Goblin growled, the sound growing in volume until he shouted, “No!” 

“I’m not like that,” Peter said. “But answer one question for me.” 

The Goblin tilted his head. 

“Who are you?” He took a breath and hissed at the pain in his body. “Cause you’d better not be Norman Osborn.” 

The man paused, then stalked over to the opposite edge of the building. He stood and stared out at the skyline for so long that Peter began to think he wasn’t going to answer the question. 

Then he laughed, long and loud, high and unhinged. The sound sent a shiver down Peter’s spine. The man was definitely insane. 

“Well done, Spider-man,” he said, turning and coming toward Peter. He stepped closer until he stood over the boy. He reached up and removed his helmet. 

And Peter stared up into the face of Norman Osborn. 

At first he didn’t think it was real. He closed his eyes and refused to believe. But when he opened them again, his best friend, no, his crush’s father was still there. Staring down at him with eyes that shone with insanity, with a grin that spoke of a mind undone. A wave of dizziness overcame him for a moment, along with the need to throw up. Because this couldn’t be happening. But it was. 

“How could you do this to him?” Peter asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. 

“Harry? The boy?” Mr. Osborn laughed. “He doesn’t matter now. All that matters is this power.” He growled and said, “The military didn’t believe in me. Not in me or my serum. But I showed them. So I injected myself and now look at me,” he shouted, eyes gleaming with madness. “I’m free.” 

Peter’s fingers gripped into a fist. He almost smiled beneath the mask, despite the circumstances. If he was able to move that much, that meant the rest of his body would soon be able to move as well. Even as he thought it, he twitched his feet a little. He just needed to keep Mr. Osborn distracted for a minute more. 

“So you don’t care about Harry at all?” Peter asked. 

“That child? He doesn’t understand. Neither do you. You don’t know what this power has given me. Finally, the world will listen to me. No more rejected contracts or money for Norman. No, I’ll get funding for all the projects I want. And beyond that, I’ll rule the world.” 

“Not sure how you went from project funding to ruling the world,” Peter said. “Seems like a bit of a jump.” 

“Well who doesn’t want power?” Mr. Osborn said, slamming his helmet back on. “Who doesn’t want people to bow at their feet?”

“I don’t,” Peter said, bending his elbows a little. “The Avengers don’t.” 

“The Avengers? Ha!” The man barked out a laugh. “What are the Avengers but a broken bunch of nobodies playing at being heroes? They don’t get it. Not like me. Having powers is useless without using them to have dominion over others.” 

“That’s not how it works, man. If you’ve got powers, you’ve got a responsibility to protect people.” The words of his uncle ghosted through Peter’s thought as he bent his knees and tensed his muscles. It was almost time. He just needed a few seconds more. 

“Protecting people is useless. Humanity is broken. But we could fix them, you and me. Wipe the slate clean, leaving only the chosen few. Does that not sound ideal?” 

“That sounds like the apocalypse,” Peter said. “But hey…” He bent his two middle fingers inward and pointed them up toward Mr. Osborn. “You can count on me stopping you.” 

With that, he shot a web out toward Mr. Osborn and leapt to his feet, pulling on the web with all his strength. The man came tumbling towards him, falling down and skidding across the roof towards Peter. Mr. Osborn grunted and tried to rip the webbing off himself when he stopped moving, but Peter tsked his tongue and webbed the man’s hand to the roof. 

“Not today, Goblin,” he said, webbing the man’s feet to the roof as well. “I’ve got you.” 

Suddenly there was a ringing in Peter’s mask, and Karen said, 

“Call from Mr. Stark.” 

“Answer,” Peter said, and soon Mr. Stark’s face popped up in the corner of his vision. 

“Hey, kid. What are you up to this late?” 

“Nothing, just wrapping something up. It’s the Goblin,” Peter said, unable to keep the relief out of his voice. “I’ve got him.” 

“Really?” Mr. Stark’s eyebrows shot up. “Nice job. Why don’t you come on back to the compound after you’re done, then? We can start the weekend off with a celebration.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“Hey…what’s that beeping?” 

“What beeping?” Peter looked around, up, to the side, then down. Then he saw it.

A pumpkin bomb, blinking and pinging on the ground. 

And Mr. Osborn was laughing. “Should’ve webbed the other hand too, kid.” 

“Oh, god,” Peter said. 

The bomb exploded.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the love everyone has shown this fic! I never expected this fic to take off like it did, but I'm so happy! Thank you all. Your comments are more than appreciated, and it always makes my day when I see your positive responses to this fic. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

“Peter!” Tony shouted, but the screen went blank. He closed his eyes and took a deep, shaking breath. That didn’t just happen. He didn’t just watch Peter get hurt. 

But he did. And that had happened. 

“Tony?” Rhodey asked, peeking into the man’s room as he passed by in the hallway. “Is everything okay?” 

“Peter,” was all Tony could say, looking up, eyes wide. He shot to his feet and called the suit from where it stood across the room. He was still working on the nanotech, and it wasn’t quite ready, so this old one would have to do. “He needs help.” 

Rhodey nodded once and said in a tight voice, “Okay. Where is he?” 

Tony paused and cursed. 

“What?” 

“The tracker. I didn’t put it back in his suit. He’d taken it out.” 

“Are you serious? So we just have to go and find him?” Rhodey’s voice rose. “He could be anywhere.” 

“Something wrong?” Nat came from down the hall, holding an energy bar in one hand. 

“Peter’s in trouble. He needs help,” Rhodey supplied. 

Nat’s eyes sharpened, and her posture stiffened. “Then let’s help him out.” 

 

\--

 

“See anything from the ground?” Tony spoke into the comm unit in his suit. He flew above the city, curving around a tall skyscraper, but still no sign of a red-and-blue suit. This hunt was seeming more hopeless by the second. 

“Nothing,” Nat’s voice buzzed in his ear, sounding just as disappointed as he felt. “But I’ll keep looking." 

“I’ve got nothing in Brooklyn either. You sure Queens is empty, Tony?” Rhodey said. 

“If I’d found him, would we still be looking?” Tony’s voice was harsher than he meant it to be, and he followed up with a quick, “Sorry.” 

“Hey man, it’s okay. We want to find him as much as you do.” 

Tony landed on the flat roof of an office building, his nerves still tight despite Rhodey’s words. He looked around, in every direction, but still no Spider-man. A crazy part of him thought that maybe if he looked hard enough, stared hard enough, hoped long enough, Peter would just appear. But that was stupid. Hope hadn’t ever done him good. It hadn’t gotten him out of that cave in Afghanistan, it hadn’t saved Sekovia, and it wasn’t going to find Peter now. 

Still, he hated that he hadn’t found the kid yet. It had been a whole half hour already. What if Peter was already dead? What if he’d been dead the second that bomb had gone off? Tony didn’t want to think about that, but it was a possibility he had to look into. Even if it made him want to throw up. Just the thought of someone so young, so happy, having their life ended like that…

Tony closed his eyes and shoved the thought away. He could feel his heartbeat speeding up, and he didn’t want a panic attack in the middle of a search for Peter. He forced himself to sit on the edge of the roof and take a few deep breaths until his heart rate returned to normal. Surely there had to be a way to find the kid. There had to be something.

As if reading his mind, Nat said, “Are you sure there’s no way to find him?” 

“Without the tracker in the suit…” Tony sighed and trailed off. 

“Well, can we track anything on him?” Rhodey said. “Is there something he has that’s trackable? Like, a phone or something?” 

Tony blinked and shot to his feet. “His phone,” he whispered. “Of course.” 

Rhodey’s smile was evident in his voice as he said, “Awesome. Let’s track that thing.” 

It took Tony only a moment to pull up a map to the phone on his heads-up display, which revealed it to be in an abandoned building just a few blocks away. 

“Got it,” he said. 

As soon as he’d sent the coordinates to Rhodey and Nat, he was on his way. A pit settled in his stomach as he flew toward the location. Suddenly the blocks seemed to stretch on for miles, and his repulsors felt too slow. He had to get there. Peter had to be okay. This had to work. 

The thoughts swirled in Tony’s head as he landed on the rooftop of the building. His mouth dried at the dark stains from an explosion. Rhodey followed soon after, thudding down beside Tony. 

“I’m coming up,” Nat said into the comms unit. A second later, she appeared on the ledge of the building, grappling device in hand. “So?” She asked, walking up to them. “Where is he?” 

“He’s got to be inside,” Tony said, heart pounding. “Somewhere.” 

Rhodey nodded. “Okay.” 

“I’ll call him,” Nat said, pulling her phone out. After a second she held it up to her ear and listened. 

A ringing came from beside the air vent. 

Tony’s heart dropped in his chest. 

“Shit,” Rhodey whispered, walking out of his armor to pick the phone up. “I was afraid this might happen.” 

Tony turned to him, stepping out of his suit as well. “What?” He snapped. 

“Tones, think about it,” the other man said with a sigh. “This Goblin guy is tricky. And smart, too. He knew we’d go looking for Peter. So he left us with this.” Rhodey sat on the vent, pursing his lips and looking at the phone. 

It began to ring again. 

Everyone jumped except Nat, who was the hardest to surprise among them. 

“I don’t recognize the number,” Rhodey said. “Should we pick up?” 

“Better not,” Nat said. “Could be one of his friends, looking for him.” 

Rhodey nodded and let it ring. Tony huffed and ran his hands through his hair. This was taking too long. Peter could be dead by now. He could be dead in a ditch somewhere, or bleeding out in an alley, or even vaporized by the explosion of the bomb…

Tony gripped his left wrist and tried to take a deep breath. Peter was going to be okay. He had to believe that. 

The phone stopped ringing. And a voice came out. 

“Hello, Avengers. Looking for a little spider, are we?” 

Tony grabbed the phone from Rhodey’s hand and pressed the ‘answer’ button in the blink of an eye. 

“I’m speaking to the Goblin, right?” Tony said, voice cold. 

“Correct,” the man said with a giggle. 

“You’d better tell me where you are, so I can—” 

“Ah, not yet,” the Goblin said. His voice was deep, altered so Tony couldn’t know who it was. “Just wanted to warn you.” 

“Warn us?” Rhodey said, eyes narrowing. 

“Oh, hello! Yes, you see, once the little spider told me you’d be looking for him, I knew I had to pay my respects. And well…I suppose you get to say your goodbyes.” 

“What?” Tony said. 

“You have thirty seconds.” Something rustled on the other end of the line, then Peter’s voice burst from the phone. 

“Mr. Stark!” 

“Hey,” Tony said, his voice softening. “You all right?” 

“Yeah,” Peter said, then hissed. “I’m a little banged up, but I’ll be okay.” 

“We’re coming to get you,” Nat said. “Hold on.” 

“Thanks, but I’ve got this.” 

Tony shook his head. “Not this time. We’re coming to get you, kid.” 

Peter paused, then sighed with what sounded like relief. “Okay. Thanks, guys.” 

“No problem,” Rhodey said. “Just hold on till we get there, okay? We’re on our—” 

“And time’s up!” The Goblin’s voice burst from the phone. “No one will be coming to get anyone tonight. The next you see of your spider will be his gravestone. Bye bye, Avengers!” 

The Goblin hung up. 

Tony cursed and walked back toward the suit. 

“Tones?” Rhodey asked. 

“We’re going to get Peter,” Tony said. “No matter what that guy says.” 

“Of course we are,” Nat said. 

“Still, we have no idea where he is,” Rhodey said, crossing his arms. 

Tony nodded. “But we’ll find him.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Back to square one.”


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as Mr. Osborn hung up the phone, Peter’s head fell. Suddenly any warmth in his chest vanished, caught up in the cold air of the abandoned church he’d been brought to. It was an old, ruined thing, barely more than a few crumbling walls and a half-intact steeple. The whole place tasted like age. The sound of a river came from behind Peter’s head, behind the wall he sat against. 

His injuries were healing. Consciously, he knew that. But his ribs still screamed at him, and his whole body felt like it was on fire. His suit was a mess, littered with holes and tears that surprised him. He didn’t know anything could break the suit. He was wrong. He put a hand to his side and tried to take a deep breath as he stared ahead of him through the broken eyes of his suit. One had a hole cracked into it. 

The Green Goblin, Mr. Osborn, stood before him. In all his glory too; helmet and all. He clapped his hands. 

“Well done, little spider, well done. Such a performance. Almost brought tears to my eyes.” 

Peter gritted his teeth and leaned back, wishing he could tear Mr. Osborn apart. Wishing he could stand. 

“Of course, you’ll be dead long before they get here.” He laughed. “I wonder what Iron Man will say. Maybe he’ll cry over your dead body. I doubt Black Widow will. She’s ever so heartless. Maybe War Machine will carry your body away—” 

“You don’t know them,” Peter hissed. “You don’t know them at all.” 

Mr. Osborn put a hand to his chest in mock surprise. “You think they’ll come for you?” He stepped forward until he was right in front of Peter. “No,” he said, voice quiet. “You’re all alone. There’s nothing you can do now. You’re all alone, Mr. Parker.” 

Peter froze. His breath caught in his throat. 

“Oh, yes. I know who you are. I’m not stupid, Parker. Your face is visible through your mask.” He reached over and ripped the thing off Peter’s head, though it was little more than tatters. 

Peter shivered. His bottom lip trembled, and his heart pounded. He took a shuddering breath and looked up as Mr. Osborn removed his helmet. The man stared down at him, crazed eyes glittering. He was smiling. 

“So. Here we are. You and me.” He gestured forward at Peter. “The final battle. Isn’t it grand, Peter? You’ll die a hero. Isn’t that what you wanted? To be like your idol, Iron Man?” 

Peter just glared, though tears built in his eyes. 

“And now…” He drew a knife from his belt and pointed it down at Peter. The boy gulped as he looked at the shining blade. The blade that would soon be in his heart. 

He’d die here. That thought was abundantly clear above everything else. He’d never see Harry again. Or Mr. Stark, or May. Or Ned, or MJ. Or any of the Avengers. Everything would be lost. The Goblin had won. Peter closed his eyes and leaned his head back. This was it. He’d lost. 

And what would Mr. Osborn do next? Would he kill Harry? Attack the citizens of New York? Peter imagined his city burning as the Goblin soared above it all, laughing and throwing pumpkin bombs down into the hell it had become. Killing at random. Without thought. Without mercy. Because there wouldn’t be a Spiderman to stop him. 

The choice made itself in his mind. 

The knife flew down toward his heart. 

Peter held his breath. 

And dodged. 

Mr. Osborn made a confused yell as Peter stood and webbed the knife, then yanked it out of his grasp. He leaped and kicked the man’s chest with both feet, smashing him into the far wall of the church. 

Before Peter could smile at his brief victory, Mr. Osborn stood, brushing dust and debris off his shoulders. He sneered. 

“So. You won’t work with me, and you won’t die.”

“I’m not dying tonight, Goblin,” Peter said, gasping the words out through pain. 

“Indeed,” the man said. Peter webbed a rampart, then pulled himself up. As he landed, staring upside-down at Mr. Osborn, a shiver ran through him. What was he thinking? He should wait until the Avengers arrived. 

But he’d already started this fight. And now he was going to finish it. 

Without another thought, he leaped down, landing clumsily on his feet behind Mr. Osborn. Another intact inner wall of the church to his left caught his eye, and he leapt toward it. 

Mr. Osborn turned to him with a growl. 

“Why don’t you come on and get me?” Peter asked, running through his plan in his head. If he could get Mr. Osborn to run toward him, or even get on his glider and come this way, Peter would dodge and the man would collide with the wall. 

Just as Peter thought it, Mr. Osborn leaped and his glider connected with his feet. He hovered in the air for a moment, backing up. Peter almost nodded. Just come here, he thought. 

Mr. Osborn started forward. Peter bent his knees, preparing to leap out of the way. 

But Mr. Osborn threw something at his feet. Peter looked down. 

Another pumpkin bomb. 

“No!” He shouted, just as it exploded. His body was thrown back through the wall, shattering the stone and sending him crashing into another wall. He groaned as he lay on the ground, but Mr. Osborn was in front of him before he could blink. Peter tried to stand. But Mr. Osborn lifted a fist and punched him in the gut. 

Peter gasped. Nothing had ever hurt like this. Not even when he’d gotten the powers. Nothing would ever hurt as much as the pain when Mr. Osborn punched him again, across the face, over and over. Peter tried to hit back, tried to shoot a web, but Mr. Osborn just kept hitting him. 

Eventually he was hit into the wall behind him. His whole body hurt. No, this wasn’t hurt. There wasn’t a word for pain like this. 

He fell forward, not even catching himself with his hands. 

Still, something sparked in him as he hit the dirt. He drew the two middle fingers of his right hand in, and shaking, pointed his wrist up at Mr. Osborn.   
But the man just stomped on his wrist, smashing it into the ground. Peter cried out as he heard a crack, and his wrist flared with pain. Mr. Osborn reached down and pulled him up by his neck, pushing him into the wall. 

“You’re a little brat,” the man said, baring his teeth. “You thought you could take me down? I’m Norman Osborn. No one can beat me.” He took a shuddering breath. “You’ve just ensured that your friend’s deaths are going to be nice and slow. Oh yes. I’ll wait here for the Avengers. And when they arrive, I’ll do to them what I’ve done to you, and more. And then…” He smiled. “I might just go after little Harry too. And all of your friends at that school, too. What would you think of that—” 

His words cut off as Peter stood and spun the man around, slamming him into the stone where Peter had just been. 

“Don’t you hurt them,” Peter growled, gripping Mr. Osborn’s shoulders. 

He paused as he saw the blank look in the man’s eyes. Peter took a step back, taking his hands away. 

Mr. Osborn let out a breath. And for this first time, his eyes seemed to clear. He looked at Peter and said, 

“Oh, Peter.” 

Peter took a step back. 

“I’m all right. It’s me. Mr. Osborn. Harry’s father. You know me, right?” He reached out a hand. “Please, help me.” 

Peter bit his bottom lip, and found his fingers reaching for Mr. Osborn’s. Surely he could help him up. He was okay now. He wasn’t crazy now. 

“Oh, bless you, Peter,” the man said. “Bless you.” 

Peter reached forward and gripped the man’s wrist. A smile formed on his face. 

“You’re all right, Mr. Osborn. That was just the serum. You’re going to be—” 

His spider sense flared, and then it all happened in slow motion. 

He leaped up, flipping in mid-air. 

The glider shot forward, blades extended from its front. 

And pierced Mr. Osborn’s chest. 

Peter landed on his feet, and his eyes widened. 

“No!” He shouted, running forward and yanking on the glider. But with his shaking hands, he couldn’t pull it out. He looked at Mr. Osborn, coughing and sputtering. “No, please!” Peter cried, voice breaking. “Please. No. No, no no.” He gripped Mr. Osborn’s shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. Everything’s going to be okay, I p-promise.” He stuttered as a sob punctured his words. “Oh my god…” He pressed a hand to his forehead, tears overflowing down his face. “You’re gonna live, and you’re gonna go home to your son, and everything’s gonna be—” 

The man collapsed forward onto the glider. 

And didn’t move again. 

The rest of the night was a blur after that. Peter remembered screaming until he was hoarse, finally yanking the glider out and laying Mr. Osborn gently on the ground. The Avengers arrived soon after. He tried to hold onto the body, but Mr. Stark grabbed him. He got taken back to the compound after that. He remembered Mr. Rhodes calling May, and telling her what had happened. He remembered how he couldn’t stop crying. Because things had gone so horribly wrong. What had he done? What had he done? 

What was going to happen to Harry?


	9. Chapter 9

Tony sighed as he went back down the hall toward the kitchen, away from the rooms. Away from Peter. He took a seat at the bar and ran a hand through his hair. 

How had everything come crashing down so quickly? 

“Hey,” Rhodey said, taking a seat beside Tony. “How is he?” 

“Stopped crying at least. He’s asleep.” 

Rhodey nodded. “That’s good.” 

Nat stood on the other side of the counter and opened a soda can with a hiss. “It’s a mess,” she said, shaking her head. 

Tony grunted his agreement. He blinked slowly and let out a long breath. 

“I feel like the worst part is…we all knew this was coming,” Rhodey said, shoulders slumping. “We knew the record couldn’t last forever.” 

“But we know one thing,” Tony said as he stared into the counter. 

“What’s that?” Nat asked. 

“Peter didn’t kill him.” He looked up at her. “He would never.” 

“I agree. It had to be an accident. I mean, look at him.” She shook her head. “Poor kid.” 

For several moments, the three sat in silence, only broken by Nat’s occasional sips of her soda, or Tony tapping his foot against the floor. Tony closed his eyes. Poor Peter. He should never have had to go through something like that so young. The boy had been so broken when they’d found him, sitting above Norman’s corpse and crying. 

Norman Osborn. Just the thought of the man made Tony suck in a sharp breath. He knew Osborn had been up to something. He just never imagined this. In hindsight, he should have seen it coming. The man was never quite…right. Granted, Tony had never thought he was actually insane, but that was the truth, as it turned out. A part of Tony was glad Peter was done fighting him. Someone like Norman was dangerous, too dangerous for Peter to be dealing with. 

Well, Peter had dealt with him pretty well. Tony admired that. For a kid so young to be fighting someone so skilled? And winning? That was something to be proud of. For a moment, something like fatherly pride warmed Tony’s chest. The feeling wasn’t uncommon when it came to Peter. The kid had a way of getting to him, of making his walls come down. 

And now that kid, that always happy, always smiling kid, was in a bedroom down the hall, having cried himself to sleep. Tony knew Bruce would have to help with his injuries later. But for now, Tony just wanted to let the boy sleep. It’s the least he deserved, and since he wasn’t in any danger of bleeding out, what with his super healing, Tony was content to let him rest. 

Tony leaned forward onto the counter and opened his eyes. “God,” he muttered. “What are we gonna do?” 

“We’ve got to treat Peter as soon as he wakes up,” Rhodey said. “I’ve never seen him more beat up.” 

Nat nodded. “Then…maybe we can let him stay here for while.”

Tony blinked. “What for?” 

She looked at him like he was stupid. “He needs company, Tony. That’s going to be the best thing for him. Distraction. He needs to realize there’s more to life than mourning.” She looked away. “He’s got to get back on his feet.” She closed her eyes and took a long breath. “He’s going to feel alone. Like no one understands. And…” She looked back at him. “We’re probably the only ones who do understand.”

Tony raised his eyebrows. “Since when did Natasha Romanov have feelings?” 

She glared at him, but there was no fire behind it. Then she smirked and shook her head. “Just let his aunt know, okay?” 

“Got it,” Tony said, pulling out his phone. 

“When should we wake up Peter?” Rhodey asked. 

“Soon. Let’s just…let him sleep for a bit. God knows he needs it.” 

 

They didn’t wake Peter up till an hour later, and only so they could take him to the medbay. Nat carried him there, with Tony pretending he wasn’t hovering over her shoulder the whole time. As she laid Peter down on the table, Tony bit back a comment about making sure she was steady. He didn’t want to look too worried. Okay, he was. But still.   
Soon, everyone who was in the compound currently was there, which included Tony, Rhodey, Nat, and Bruce. Tony stood by the table, while Rhodey leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Nat sat on a table, and Bruce tapped at some screens, checking Peter’s vitals. 

“So…he’s got five broken ribs, a broken jaw, broken wrist, a concussion, numerous cuts and bruises, mostly on his back and chest, plus some light internal bleeding,” Bruce said, heaving a sigh. “Why didn’t you get him down here earlier?” 

“Tony insisted he needed to rest first,” Rhodey said with a smirk. 

“What?” Tony said, shrugging. “He did.” 

Peter shifted a little, and his eyes cracked open. In seconds, everyone was around the table. Tony’s breath caught, and he gripped his left wrist. Everyone seemed just as half-relieved, half-worried as he was, their gazes all fixed on the boy. 

“Hey, guys,” Peter muttered. “Sorry I slept so long.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Rhodey said. 

“You’re okay?” Nat asked, as Peter shifted to a sitting position, wincing and rubbing his chest. "Do you remember what happened?"

He nodded. “Fine…I think.” But his eyes widened, and after relating the events of the night, he covered his mouth with a hand. “Oh god.” 

Immediately Tony put a hand on the boy’s knee. “I’m going to stop your train of thought right there.” 

“I killed him,” Peter said, in a voice so small and broken it made Tony’s heart break just a little bit more. 

“Peter,” Tony said in a voice so sharp it made the kid jump. 

“You didn’t kill anyone,” Nat said, rubbing Peter’s shoulder. “It was an accident.” 

Peter shook his head. “But…if I hadn’t jumped out of the way—” 

“If you’d just sat there, you’d be dead,” Rhodey said, in a calm voice that didn’t match his worried expression. 

“But, Mr. Osborn—” 

Tony sat on the edge of the table and crossed his arms. “Hey Pete.” He made sure he had the boy’s attention before continuing. “That stuff at the church? Not your fault.” Before Peter could object, he said, “You know how I know? Cause accidents happen. All the time, especially in this business. You couldn’t have controlled the outcome. You jumped out of the way, and saved your own life. And that’s good.” 

“But—” 

“Hey. You know how quickly New York would fall apart without Spiderman?” Tony raised his eyebrows. “You do a lot of work protecting that city. A lot of good work. Norman was only hurting the city. He wasn’t helping anyone. But you do. See what I’m getting at here?” 

Peter bit his bottom lip and gave a tiny nod. 

“You do a lot more work than us, that’s for sure,” Bruce said. When Peter looked surprised, he chuckled and said, “It’s true. I mean, we only work during global emergencies. But you do your job every day.” He tucked a pen behind one ear. “That’s pretty impressive.” 

Peter flushed and bowed his head. “Well uh, thanks, I guess. I just…” He sniffled. “It’s stupid, but I feel like I could’ve done something to help him. Mr. Osborn, I mean. It’s not his fault he went crazy. At the end there, I thought he was back to normal. Maybe he really could have come back. But instead, he just…died.” Peter shuddered. 

“I don’t think there’s anything you could have done,” Nat said, looking down. “He was beyond help.” 

Peter huffed. “I don’t want to believe that though. It should never be too late.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Whatever, I guess.” A faint smile lit up his face. “Thanks though. For helping me out with this.” 

“Anytime,” Tony said with a smile. He sniffed and looked to Bruce. “Maybe he should get some rest, though.” He turned back to Peter. “You’ve been through a lot.” 

Bruce nodded at the kid. “That would be best. Your healing’s already begun to kick in, but you need a few hours of rest for everything to heal.” 

“Yeah, that makes sense,” he conceded. “But uh…can I call someone first?” 

“Who?” Tony said. 

Peter sighed. “Harry.” When everyone gave him curious glances, he said, “What? He just lost his dad. I’ve been there. Twice.” He held up two fingers. “So please? I’ve got to call him.” 

Tony looked to Nat, then let out a long breath. “Sure. Just make sure you do get to sleep eventually.” 

“Promise,” he said with a grin. Peter tried to leap off the table but stumbled, and Tony and Nat rushed to help him to his feet. They assisted him up to his room and to his bed. He pulled his phone out of his bag as they left the room, so all Tony heard was, 

“Harry? It’s me. I’m…so sorry.” 

Tony bit his bottom lip as he and Nat walked down the hall. “He’s still talking to that kid,” he said more to himself that Nat. 

“He likes him,” she said with a shrug. “Not even we can get in the way of that.” She shoved his shoulder with hers. “And admit it. You’re being protective.” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “I just hope everything works out. Pete’s been through enough.” 

Nat smirked. “In this line of work? That, I can’t say.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You probably noticed the fic now has 25 chapters total; I've finished the planning and am now just writing it. Thanks for all the love! You guys are the best.

Peter watched in silence as Norman Osborn’s coffin lowered into the ground. He tried not to think of the other two times he’d watched this happen, once with his parents, and again with Uncle Ben. He adjusted his black coat, pulling it tighter around him. Spring was in full swing, but winter’s chill still clung to the city. He pushed aside a thought that this was his fault. Mr. Stark had told him not to think like that. Still, it was hard not to. 

The ceremony had been short, with very few people there. There must have only been twenty people there, including Peter, May, Ned, and MJ, who’d also known Harry when they’d attended school together, plus a bunch of other important people from Oscorp Peter didn’t know. There was a Curtis Connors that caught his attention, but that conversation was cut short by the start of the ceremony. 

Now Peter stood in front of a covered grave. Someone said a few words, but they all swam through his ears, blurred in the background. His entire mind was focused on the boy next to him. Harry hadn’t stopped his quiet crying since the beginning of the whole thing. He sniffled and rubbed his eyes, taking shaky breaths and watching the proceedings through red-rimmed eyes. That was his father in the grave, Peter thought. The man he’d idolized his whole life. 

The fact that the man was the Green Goblin had been brushed aside since his death. Apparently his stature as a genius came first. Or maybe it was just because he was rich. Peter hadn’t yet decided how he felt about this whole thing. Sure, Mr. Osborn had been a decent enough guy before he started injecting himself with the serum. At least, Peter was a little sure. He hadn’t known Mr. Osborn very well. Peter bit the inside of his cheek as he thought about how the man had treated his son. Harry had never been good enough. So Peter rescinded his earlier though. Mr. Osborn had never been a truly good man. But…

That didn’t mean he deserved to die. 

Peter looked over to Harry and reached for his hand. At the last second he pulled back, but Harry gripped his hand tight, lacing their fingers together. Thousands of emotions swam in Harry’s eyes. Devastation, hopelessness, fear. Apparently Harry was going to live with some relatives for now, but that wasn’t a comfort to him or Peter. The uncertainty of the future remained. After a moment, Harry leaned his head on Peter’s shoulder. Peter closed his eyes and tried to pretend it was just the two of them. That none of this bad stuff had happened. That everything was normal. 

It didn’t quite work. 

Soon the ceremony was over, and Harry stayed still, so Peter didn’t move either. Together they stood in front of the grave as people walked away, heading home. Peter heard May and his friends moving a bit away, but he chose to stay with Harry for the time being. The wind whined in the budding trees above them, and Harry gave a small shiver. They stood in silence for several moments before Harry said, 

“Thanks, Peter.” 

“No problem, man,” Peter whispered. “I’m gonna be here for you, okay?” 

Harry nodded. “I just…” His voice shook. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without him.” 

Peter lifted his head to look into the other boy’s eyes. “You’re gonna be fine. I’m here, and May, and Ned, and MJ, and everybody. You’ve got a lot of people looking out for you.” 

Harry gave a shaky smile. “I don’t need them. I just need you.” 

“Oh,” was all Peter could say, heat rushing to his cheeks. “Okay.” 

Harry’s smile faded and he looked at the gravestone. “It’s a mess.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I mean, how’d I never see it? The disappearances, the serum in the lab, the glider and suit made by Oscorp.” 

Peter blinked, then let out a long breath. “Oh, right. That.” 

“I wonder what he was trying to do, you know? Like, what his goal was.” 

“I don’t know if he had one,” Peter said. In his mind, the man had just been crazy. 

Harry gave a sniffle then buried his head in Peter’s shoulder. “Shit,” he said, letting out a sob. 

Peter leaned in and placed his lips on Harry’s temple. “You’re gonna be fine. I know what it’s like to lose a father." He closed his eyes and remembered Ben. "But you’ll be okay, eventually. Maybe not now, but later.” 

Harry straightened with a speed that made Peter jump. “I didn’t lose him,” he said, a sudden fire in his eyes. “He was taken from me.” 

Peter almost stepped back. “What?” 

“It was that Spider-man,” the boy said, voice shaking not with sadness this time, but something else. Rage. The sound made Peter’s blood run cold. 

“Um…sure,” Peter said, nodding, trying to make it look like he agreed. Harry would get over this hatred of Spider-man. This was just a passing thing. 

Convincing himself that Harry’s moment of anger was passed, Peter stepped away and released Harry’s hand, gesturing him to join his aunt and friends. “Come on,” he said. “Company will help.” 

Harry followed along and approached May, Ned, and MJ. 

“Hey, honey,” May said, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder. When his bottom lip shook and a tear fell out of his eyes, she pulled him into an embrace. “It’s gonna be okay,” she said, rubbing his back. “You’re gonna be fine.” 

Peter stepped back, letting Harry be for the time being. He looked away, worrying his bottom lip. 

Ned stepped to his right side, and MJ to his left. For a moment, Peter was struck with the sensation that he hadn’t seen these two in forever. 

“Sorry, guys,” he said. “This must suck for you guys too.” 

“Stop apologizing,” MJ said. 

Ned nodded. “Yeah, dude. None of this is your fault.” 

Peter tried to let the words sink in. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. Mr. Stark had said as much, and so had Ms. Romanov and Mr. Rhodes. Even Dr. Banner had tried to tell him that. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d done something wrong. Maybe it was just in his head though. Maybe he was thinking too hard. But the feeling remained. 

“We’re going to be here for you, you know,” MJ said, making Peter blink. That was some unusual sentiment, coming from her. 

“Yeah,” Ned said. He put an arm around his friend and squeezed a little. “Things suck right now, but it’s gonna get better.” 

“That’s what I told Harry,” Peter said. 

MJ grunted in agreement. “Good. That’s what he needs to hear.” 

Peter put an arm around both of his friends, pulling them into a group hug. He closed his eyes to keep from crying, and tried to just enjoy the warmth of the people who meant the world to him. Under his breath he muttered, 

“Thanks, you guys.” 

“No problem,” Ned said. 

MJ just tightened her grip. 

After the hug ended, Peter made his way over to Harry. He put the other boy’s hand in his and said, 

“You ready to go?” 

Harry sniffled, and nodded. 

“Okay.” 

“Come on,” May said, gesturing the kids to the car. “MJ, I think your family’s here to pick you up. And Ned, I saw your mother over by the entrance.” She looked at Harry and said, “I’m going to drop you off at your relative’s house, okay? But we’ll come by over the weekend.” 

Some arrangements had been made to go through Mr. Osborn’s things at Oscorp Tower over the weekend, and already Peter was looking forward to it. He’d get to see Harry again, and make sure he was doing better. 

Everyone made it to their cars, and when Harry and Peter slipped in the backseat of May’s car, Harry leaned his head on Peter’s shoulder. Peter kept perfectly still the whole way to Harry’s relatives. Harry deserved the sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

Peter gulped as he stepped out of the elevator onto the top floor of Oscorp Tower. This was his first time here, and already it made his mouth dry, and his hands cold. There were signs of Norman Osborn everywhere up here. This had been his private floor, back when he’d been alive. Favorite paintings of his hung on the walls, and the beautifully carved oak paneling spoke of his excellent artistic taste. Vases of dying flowers, roses and lilies and orchids, stood on tables and counters building up dust. Peter shivered when he saw those. It was as if the place knew its owner was dead. 

“Peter,” Harry said, coming out from behind a corner, smiling. Peter grinned at that; at least the other boy was feeling better. “Thanks for coming, guys.” 

“It’s no problem, Harry,” May said from behind Peter. She stepped up to him and wrapped him in a warm embrace. “We’re happy to help.” 

“Sorry it’s just us,” Harry said. “I uh, kind of wanted to do this privately. If that’s okay.” 

May nodded and ran a hand over the boy’s hair. 

“This way,” he said, gesturing for them to follow him down the hall he’d just come from. “We’re gonna be in Dad’s room today, but if we can, I’d like to get to his office too.” 

“Sure,” Peter said absently. His attention was caught by the sheer size of everything. This floor was much bigger than he’d thought. The hall was almost too high for him to jump to the ceiling, and he could jump pretty high. His steps echoed off the walls, filling his enhanced ears with the sound. And there was so much to look at. The paintings, the bookshelves, the statues. Norman Osborn hadn’t just been a genius, clearly. He’d also been a collector. 

“Yeah, there’s a lot of stuff here,” Harry said, noticing Peter’s interest. “My dad really liked old stuff, I guess.” He met Peter’s eyes. Peter flushed. 

After barely a second of eye contact, Harry turned and rounded a corner into a doorway. Beyond lay an enormous bedroom. 

It was the biggest bed Peter had ever seen. It could have fit five people. All this just for one man? The covers were a lovely red and white pattern of flowers and people dressed in fashion from the 1800s, as were the bed curtains. Peter had never even seen bed curtains in his life. On the left wall was an enormous bookshelf spanning the entire length of the room, covered in books of every shape and size. Opposite was an enormous window, with a view of the sprawling city. Beside the bed, and made of the same oak as the walls, was a door, barely visible. Peter stepped into the room, and he must have been gaping, because Harry chuckled and said, 

“Yeah, it’s a lot. My dad really liked nice stuff.” 

“It certainly is something,” May agreed, setting her purse down. “So where should we start?” 

“Um, the bookshelf?” Harry pointed at it. 

So the three set to work, taking books down and looking over them. Two piles began to emerge; one for keeping and the other for donating. A lot went into the donating pile. Harry’s taste in books wasn’t quite the same as his father’s. Many were dull antiques, or modern books on economics or science. Peter knew from personal experience that Harry liked to read fantasy and science fiction. At one point, Peter held up a book on astronomy from the 1930’s, and the three read it for a while, laughing at the antique knowledge on the universe. 

A feeling started to build in Peter’s stomach as they sorted. At first it was just a small weight, but as time went by, and a half hour passed, it grew into a pit in his gut. His mouth tasted sour, and his muscles tensed. This had been a man’s property. And not just any man’s. The Green Goblin’s. How had no one noticed? Maybe it didn’t matter. But the two had been the same, the genius Norman Osborn, and the mad Goblin. 

And he’d been a person, a real, living person. He’d had opinions, a family, property. All of these books had been his. The boy sitting across from Peter was the man’s son. And Peter had watched him die. He’d stood there and watched. Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Mr. Stark had told him to stay away from thoughts like this. They wouldn’t do him any good. But no matter how he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about how a person had died on his watch. A man with so much to live for. 

Not your fault, Mr. Stark had said. Peter opened his eyes and repeated the words in his head. 

Not my fault. Not my fault. It had been an accident. 

So he let himself believe it, if only for a moment. 

“Peter?” May asked from beside him. 

Peter blinked and shook his head. “Oh uh, sorry. I just got um, distracted. Sorry.” 

Harry smirked. “You’re always getting distracted.” 

Peter blushed again. 

Harry blinked and straightened. “Oh, uh, Peter. I wanted to show you something in my dad’s office. If that’s ok?” He looked to May. She nodded with a twinkle in her eye that made Peter blush even harder. 

Harry stood and walked toward the door in the wall on the opposite side of the room. He looked to Peter as soon as he reached it, and the boy jumped to his feet maybe a little too quickly, rushing to the now open doorway. Peter stepped in and his mouth fell open. 

The office was even bigger than the bedroom, with more bookshelves spanning the walls, as well as tables displaying objects like globes and antique thermometers. An enormous desk sat to Peter’s right, and beyond it was an enormous floor-to-ceiling window showing a jaw-dropping view of the city. The room smelled like paper, ink, and old books, and Peter smiled at the smell. 

“This place is amazing,” he said, turning around. He blinked when he realized Harry had closed the door. “This is…was your dad’s office? It’s insane.” 

Harry nodded with a sheepish grin. “Yeah. It’s a lot. Not quite what I would have picked, but hey, that was Dad.” He stepped closer. “He always liked the extravagant stuff.” 

Peter gulped as Harry stepped in once more. He looked at Peter, eyes full of some emotion the boy couldn’t identify, then sat down against a bookshelf, quelling the anxiety. It wasn’t that Peter didn’t want to get closer. It was just sudden. But maybe sudden was okay. 

He sat down beside the other boy, pulling his knees up and placing his hands on them. “So uh…what’d you wanna show me?” 

Harry raised his eyebrows, then smirked. “Oh uh, that was a lie. I just wanted to talk for a bit, that’s all.” 

“Oh…okay.” 

“Yeah, sorry. Sounds sort of lame when I say it out loud.” Harry shrugged. “But uh…I wanted to thank you.” He looked over, gaze piercing. “Really, really thank you. Cause uh…” He turned away, breath shaking. “When my dad died, I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. I still don’t. But you never gave up on me.” He looked back over. “I think I needed that.”

Peter nodded, though his mind was…kind of freaking out. Harry was never this vulnerable. “It’s ok, dude. You needed someone. I was just helping you out.” 

“Yeah but…you’ve always been there, Pete. Even when we were kids and my dad was being strict, you’d let me hang out at your place, and stuff like that.” 

“We’re still kids.” 

Harry chuckled. “You know what I mean.” He sighed. “But yeah. I just kind of needed you to hear that. You know?” 

Peter nodded. “Yeah.” 

Harry smirked again, and Peter felt his face flush. God, that smirk. Just a little twist of a mouth could do so much to him. As Harry looked at him, he felt his own mouth curve up in a smile. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” Harry said. 

“Me too.” 

Harry looked down, then back up. He took a breath, shaky and small. 

“Hey, Peter?” he said in a tiny voice. 

“Yeah?” 

“I’m bi.” 

Peter’s breath caught, and he said, “Me too.” 

In a second that felt like a lifetime, Peter was leaning in. Harry’s eyes closed. Peter let his own eyes shut.

Their lips met. 

For a moment Peter almost froze. The sensation of kissing Harry was everything and nothing like he’d imagined. There was the heat. He’d imagined that part. But he couldn’t have pictured the electricity in his veins. If he touched the bookshelf, would it catch on fire? He let his hands wander to Harry’s neck as his lips moved against Harry’s, capturing the other boy’s top lip. He wanted to do this forever. Harry clearly had more experience. It was in the way he moved, the way he slid closer and gripped Peter’s shirt in one hand, and his hair in the other. But Peter didn’t mind, because what he lacked Harry made up for. 

In that moment, Peter thanked the stars that Harry had called him just mere weeks ago. That this reconnection had been made. He never wanted to leave Harry’s side again. How could he have let the other boy slip away like that, all those years ago? How could he have missed out on what he was experiencing now? What could have happened in the time he’d missed? 

He took a breath and let those thoughts evaporate. All that mattered was that he had this now. For once, he was completely happy. For once, he wasn’t worried about the latest villain, because who could be worse than Goblin or Vulture? He wasn’t worried about school, or protecting anyone, or the responsibility of being Spiderman. He was here. Kissing Harry. And he loved him. 

He loved him. 

Peter gasped and pulled back an inch. 

“What’s wrong?” Harry said, lips red and face flushed. 

“Nothing,” Peter muttered, leaning back in. “Nothing at all.” 

He loved him. And nothing would ever change that.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about. To go down.

On his first official date with Harry, Peter couldn’t stop staring at the boy. Peter had picked him up at his relative’s house, and from there they’d taken a bus to the city, and now they were walking around. They’d gone through Central Park, and now were making their way along the city streets. Harry looked at Peter and chuckled. 

“What’s so fascinating?” he said. 

“N-nothing,” Peter said, looking away. “Uh, sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Harry said, wrapping his hand around Peter’s. “I’ve kind of been staring at you too.” 

Peter looked back and blinked. “You have?” 

“Guess you didn’t notice.” Harry smirked.

Peter blushed. “I guess not.” 

Harry laughed and leaned in, pecking him on the cheek. “God, stop being cute, will you?” He pulled back, leaving Peter a little disappointed. “So where to next?” 

“Um…” Peter mused, adjusting his backpack on his shoulders. His excuse was that he’d put some snacks in there, which he had, but underneath them was the newly repaired suit. Never hurt to be prepared, Peter thought. “How about lunch? I’m kind of hungry.” 

“Sure,” Harry said. 

In a moment the boys had picked a bodega, and though it wasn’t as good as Delmar’s the sandwiches weren’t bad. Peter and Harry munched on their sandwiches outside, leaning against the wall, watching people go by. 

“Man, I love getting out,” Harry said with a satisfied sigh. “It’s so much better than getting stuck inside all day.” 

Peter nodded and took a bite of his sandwich. 

“But at the same time…” Harry bit his lip. “Isn’t it kind of dangerous here?” 

Peter tilted his head. “Dangerous how?” 

“Well I mean, with all the people attacking New York all the time and stuff. Like wasn’t there that Vulture guy last year?” 

Peter gulped at the ever-present memory of Adrian Toomes. “Yeah…why?” 

“Do you ever think about moving out of the city?” 

He almost choked on his sandwich, and looked over at Harry, incredulous. “No. Why ask?” 

“Oh.” Harry’s shoulders sagged. “Just cause…stuff might happen, you know? It happens all the time. Like with the Goblin, and stuff. Were you scared of him, when he was around?”

“A little,” Peter said. “Maybe more than a little,” he confessed, scratching the back of his neck. 

Harry nodded. “And you never wanted to get out?” 

“Well, no.” It was his responsibility to take care of the Goblin. He’d known that from the beginning. How could he leave? “Why ask?” 

Harry blinked and looked down. “Oh. Um, no reason.” His gaze darkened. “Just you know, wondering your opinion. Cause you never know when a new guy might pop up.” 

“I guess,” Peter said. 

A few moments of silence passed between the two boys before Peter said, “Anyway, wanna keep walking?” He extended his hand, and Harry grasped it with a smile. 

“Sure,” the other boy said. Soon they had resumed their walk through the city. Harry asked a few questions about how Ned, MJ, and May were doing, and Peter was happy to oblige. The boy looked so much better than he had earlier. Here he was, only a week or so after his father’s death, and he was smiling. He was almost suspiciously happy. 

“I’m glad you’re doing good,” Peter said, out of the blue. 

“Oh?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” 

“Just, after your dad, and everything. You seem to be doing really good.” 

Harry’s eyes sparkled with understanding. “Yeah.” He looked ahead. “You know, it’s weird, but ever since I started looking through my dad’s stuff, I feel closer to him than ever. Does that make sense?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Cause like…” Harry lifted his other hand. “I’ve been looking through all his stuff, and I think I understand him now. All that Goblin stuff, he was just trying to make things right.”

Peter frowned. “What?” 

“Well, you know how the military was gonna cut his funding and stuff, right? He just wanted to keep his company. That’s his livelihood. He built it from the ground up. And I understand why he’d want to keep it going.” 

Peter tried to look like he was agreeing, even though he really didn’t like where this was going. Norman Osborn had been a bad guy. 

Mostly, though. Maybe Harry wasn’t completely off. He did make some good points. The man had just been trying to do what he thought was right. His methods were wrong, though. That was where Peter drew the line. Why didn’t Harry care about that? 

“But he tried to hurt people,” Peter said. “Isn’t that bad?” 

“Well, yeah,” Harry said, a little too fast. “Duh. But still. And anyway, I was looking through his labs the other day, too, and he’s got all the Goblin stuff in there. You know that door we found, the one we couldn’t get past? Well, after a couple of tries, I managed to get it open. And he’s got some amazingly advanced stuff back there.” 

Peter nodded slowly. “Uh huh…” 

“And those vials he had. That was a super soldier serum. Sure, it didn’t quite work, but it’s really good. It works, you know? Like the side effects aren’t even all that bad.” 

“I guess. But…how do you know?” 

“What?” Harry looked at him. 

“How do you know what the side effects are?” 

Harry looked down and swallowed. 

Peter’s blood temperature dropped, and his heartrate skyrocketed. 

“Harry, have you been taking that stuff?” 

The boy didn’t say anything. 

“Harry, if you’ve been injecting yourself with that—” 

“I haven’t been doing that, okay?” Harry said, holding up a hand. “I’ve just been running some tests with Dad’s equipment. That’s all. Okay?” His eyes held Peter’s. “That’s all.” 

Peter nodded. “Okay. If you say so.” 

“I swear.” 

He let out a breath and gripped Harry’s hand tighter. “Good. I just really…care about you, you know?” 

Harry laughed and kissed his cheek. “Yeah, I know.” 

“Good.” Peter grinned. “What now? We could keep walking around, or we could see a movie, or sit down somewhere, or—” 

Harry’s phone beeped, making Peter jump a little. “What was that?” 

Harry pulled his phone out of his pocket. His eyes widened. He turned to Peter and said, “Peter, I’m sorry, but I have to go.” 

Peter blinked. “Um, okay…” 

“I’m really sorry.” He looked down and crossed his arms. “It’s just, there’s something I have to take care of. It’s really important. I promise, I’ll make it up to you?” His eyes met Peter’s again. 

Peter nodded. “Yeah, that’s fine. We can go out again soon.” 

Harry grinned. “Thanks.” 

Without warning except for his spider sense, Harry pulled him into an alleyway and into a kiss. 

Peter gasped a little, but soon pressed his lips to Harry’s. There was something about this kiss that felt…off. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe it was in the way Harry gripped his arm a bit too tight, or other boy’s trembling breath. 

“Are you really okay?” Peter asked, pulling back. 

“Yes,” Harry said emphatically. “I’m fine.” He stepped out of the alley. “Great, actually. I think things are finally going to start turning around for me.” 

“What?” 

Harry’s eyes softened. “I think my dad’s gonna finally rest in peace, is all.” 

With that, the boy ran down the street, vanishing from sight in the crowds. 

Peter leaned back against the wall, letting out a long sigh. Things were finally relaxing, and moments of happiness like this were hard to find. Because he was happy. No matter how off-ish Harry was, he was still a great boyfriend. A smile crept onto Peter’s face. Life was settling down. 

His phone rang, and he put it to his ear. “Hello?” 

“Peter. It’s Natasha.” 

He perked up. “Ms. Romanov! Hey. What’s uh, what’s up?” 

She chuckled. “Just checking on you. Tony’s been insisting somebody call to see how you’re doing. Your injuries are all healed, right?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, it’s all good.” 

“See, Tony? He’s fine,” she said loudly, and Peter heard Mr. Stark say in the background, 

“Thanks, Nat.” 

Peter’s chest warmed. “Well, tell him I’m doing okay. Things are,” he paused, then said, “Things are really going well now.” 

“Oh? How’s Harry?” 

Peter blushed. “He’s doing fine. Um, he’s good. Yeah.” 

“Good.” Her smile was evident in her voice. “I was worried about him.” 

“Yeah, he’s doing better. I think.” 

“But?” 

Peter worried his bottom lip. “Just sometimes, I get this feeling. Like he’s hiding something from me.” He shook his head. “I’m probably just being stupid. But still. It’s almost like his dad’s still alive. Like Harry’s still controlled by him.” 

Ms. Romanov let out a breath. “It can be hard to let go. Especially for Harry.” 

“I just want him to be happy.” 

“I’m sure he is with you.” 

Peter stuttered and his face flushed even more. 

“Well, I’d better let you go. Have fun with Harry, okay?” she said. 

“Actually, he said he was going to do something—” 

BOOM. 

“What was that?” Ms. Romanov asked, suddenly all business. 

“I’mgonnahavetocallyouback,” Peter said, hanging up. 

He scrambled out of the building’s shadow, looking for the source of the explosion. Where was it? Where was it? His heart hammered in his chest, making a staccato rhythm that echoed in his ears. His hands shook, and he gathered them into fists, though trying not to crush the phone. 

His eyes found the stream of smoke coming from one of the skyscrapers about a quarter mile away. One of its top-floor windows was leaking sickly black smoke. Peter looked up, down, around the source, looking for what had caused it. 

Another bomb went off. 

Peter was blown onto his back. As soon as he skidded to a stop, he leaped to his feet, watching the apartment building across the street burn. 

His blood ran cold. What the hell? What was this? 

An all-too-familiar cackling came from above. Peter closed his eyes and prayed. Please, this could not be happening. But when he looked up…

The Green Goblin stared down at him.


	13. Chapter 13

Peter’s jaw dropped. He froze in place, looking into the eyes of someone who couldn’t be real. 

He looked exactly the same as before, as if nothing had happened. Same green armor, same glider, same menacing mask. The armor was even repaired, looking as if nothing had ever happened to it. In fact, the whole costume looked brand new. 

This was impossible. 

Peter held himself there as the Goblin looked away and kept going down the street, twenty feet in the air and laughing. As soon as he was gone, Peter ripped open his backpack and threw on the suit. He called Mr. Stark the second the mask was on. 

“Mr.Stark,” he cried. “Are you seeing this?” 

The man blinked and looked away for a moment, no doubt pulling up Peter’s camera feed. Peter looked out onto the street, making sure to stare at the Goblin. 

“What the hell?” Mr. Stark said. 

Peter shot a web onto a nearby building and pulled himself up to its roof to stare at the Goblin from up high. “I know right? I thought he was dead.” 

“He is. This must be somebody else.” 

“Are you sure?” Peter said. “Cause he looks exactly the same. Like, exactly the same. Armor and everything.” The Goblin laughed and threw another pumpkin bomb. Peter cursed and leaped off the building toward him. He’d let this go on for too long. 

“Do you need backup?” Mr. Stark asked. 

“No. I’ve got this,” Peter said, sticking to an apartment building across the street. “End call.” 

Mr. Stark’s face disappeared, and Peter refocused his energy on the Goblin. 

“Hey!” he called out. “Goblin zombie, or whatever you are. Remember me?” 

The man swung around. Well…maybe not man. He was shorter. 

“Ah, there you are,” he said. Even his voice was higher, though Peter couldn’t place it. The sound was distorted, probably so he couldn’t identify the speaker. “Spiderman.” He flew over towards him, tossing a pumpkin bomb from hand to hand. “So good of you to come out and play.” 

“I’m gonna give you one chance to stop,” Peter said, trying to put confidence in his voice. “Just stop hurting people. You’ve never done it before. Why now?” 

“I’m not like my predecessor. You’ll find I’m not quite so…merciful.” 

He scoffed. Merciful? The guy who nearly punched him till he couldn’t move? That was just a straight up lie. 

“So you’re not taking the chance?” 

The Goblin laughed. “I’ll have to turn you down, Spiderman. I’m not surrendering to the man who murdered Norman Osborn.” 

Peter blinked, and the world seemed to slow down. “You knew him?” he said, voice barely more than a croak. 

The Goblin flew forward until he was in Peter’s face. “Oh yes, I knew him. He and I were very close.” 

The boy, because that’s what he must have been, backed up a bit. 

“So are you going to take your shot? Why don’t you come at me?” 

Muscles tensing, Peter prepared to strike. He gathered the fist not sticking to the building. If the new Goblin wanted a fight, that’s what he’d get. 

“Please, help me!” 

The cry for help stopped Peter in his tracks. He looked to his left. It was as if he were seeing the destruction for the first time. The apartment complex across the street was burning, flame leaking from almost every window. 

“Oh, god,” he whispered. He looked back at the Goblin, mask placed in a permanent sneer. Peter had a choice. He could take the shot, or he could save the civilians. 

The choice made itself. 

He swung across the street, flying in through one of the windows. He landed in a living room, flame surrounding him. Except…

A woman holding a baby cowered in a corner, tears streaking her soot-stained face. She looked up at him with wide eyes. Peter scrambled over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Is there a fire escape?” he asked, voice loud above the flames. The woman nodded. 

“It’s...it’s too far,” she said, coughing. “It’s on the other side of the building.” 

“Shit,” Peter muttered. He looked back toward the window. Flames blocked his way, but—wait. There was a small path. He could make it. But could the woman and the baby? He met her eyes. “We’re going to need to go out the window. Is that okay?” 

She gave a small, shaking nod, but said, “My baby.” 

“You can hold onto them. Okay?” 

“…okay.” 

Peter helped her into a crouch, and they began their way across the floor. Fire stood to their left, and he helped her go right. They began to veer left around a curtain of flames coming from a door. It was slow going, but so far everything seemed to be going all right. 

Until the flames grew to nearly twice their size. 

Peter cried out as the fire exploded outward, shielding the woman’s body with his own. 

She gasped and held herself still. 

He blinked when the flames retreated. Did that really just happen? Was he really okay? He patted his arms down, but no fire remained. He let out a breath and mentally thanked Mr. Stark for making this thing fireproof. Well, mostly. His chest and arms still hurt like hell. The suit couldn’t save him from the heat, then. Just burning alive. 

Peter turned back to the woman, still clutching her baby to her chest. He cursed. That kid wouldn’t last long in here. Without hesitation, he gripped her arm and tugged her across the floor towards the window. Hesitantly, he rose to a low standing position. 

“Okay,” he said. “I’m gonna take you down to the ground now, all right?” 

She nodded. 

Peter stepped onto the window ledge, holding out his hand. She took it, and joined him on the ledge. She looked down, then at her baby, then his face. 

“I’m ready,” she said. 

“You’d uh…better let me take your kid.” 

With a nod, she handed the child over, and Peter nestled the kid in the crook of his elbow. The woman wrapped her arms around his neck, and he faced the room, stepping backwards. He shot a web up to the roof of the building, making sure the woman was securely attached to him, before stepping off and plummeting towards the ground. 

To the woman’s credit, she didn’t even scream, as he had his first time using his webs. They dropped down to the ground, and Peter didn’t realize he had been holding his breath until the woman’s feet were firmly on the concrete, her baby back in her arms. 

She held the child close to her chest and looked at him through watering eyes. 

“Thank you, Spiderman,” she said. 

“No uh, no problem.” He gave a lame thumbs-up to her and the small crowd that had gathered. He felt his face heat at the applause. He wasn’t really worth all that, right? Still, he gave them a wave and turned to go after this new Goblin. A grimace emerged on his face beneath the mask, one he was glad the crowd couldn’t see. This Goblin had to go down.

He was just about to shoot off a web and get out of there when someone in the building screamed. 

His face paled and he looked back at the fire. No. Someone was still inside? 

Without a second thought he leaped in through a second story window, landing in a flaming apartment. 

“Hello?” he called, running through the doorway into the hall. No one down either side. But he was sure he’d heard it somewhere around here…

He began to look through each door, but still, nothing. Maybe he was hearing things. Because he was sure everyone had managed to get out by now. Was he wrong? 

A second, bone-chilling scream echoed down the hall. From the last doorway on the right. 

Peter shot down the hallway like a bolt of lightning. The door was open, and he looked through the flames, heart thumping like a war drum in his chest. There was someone still inside here. Someone who might die. Where were they? Where were—

There. 

The outline of a woman, crouching in the middle of the floor. She wore an old shawl, so Peter guessed she must be pretty old herself. He ran toward her and cried, 

“Hey! We’ve got to get out of he—”

Before he could blink, the figure turned around, revealing the Green Goblin. 

Oh. Shit. 

The Goblin threw something, and Peter ducked. One grazed his arm, and he winced. Circular blades, like throwing stars. Razors. 

Another one flew toward him. He ducked. 

But his spider sense barely warned him before they turned back around in midair, shooting toward him once more. He gasped and jumped to the ceiling, barely avoiding getting hit. 

“Seriously, Goblin, what did I ever do to you?” he muttered. 

The man—or boy, as it may have been, caught the razors, twirling them in his fingers. 

“So you think you’re pretty clever, do you?” 

“Um, I like to think so? I mean, my GPA’s a—Ah!” Peter jumped down as the razors stuck the ceiling, making cracks as they landed. 

That didn’t look good. 

“Look,” Peter said, turning to the Goblin, “I’m sorry Mr. Osborn died. But I didn’t do it, I swear.” 

“You can’t lie to me,” the Goblin said, a growl lacing his tone. 

The ceiling groaned. Peter gulped. He had to get out of here. He turned toward the window and prepared to leap out of it—

And found himself blocked by the Goblin holding a knife. 

Peter gulped, staring at the knife like a deer caught in headlights. The blade was slightly curved, tinted a dark green. 

“That’s uh…that’s new,” he said. 

“Made it myself,” Goblin said. “It’ll puncture your suit, sure enough.” 

“Huh…” Peter looked up toward the ceiling. It was barely standing now. Cracks spiderwebbed out from where the razors had hit, glowing orange from the fire in the floor above. It moaned and cracked. Shit. 

“Look,” Peter said, waving his arms. “This is revenge, right?” 

“…yes.” 

“But I didn’t kill him! It was an accident.” 

“You expect me to believe that?” the Goblin prowled closer and the ceiling bent. “You’re a killer, Spiderman. You can’t deny that.” 

Peter shook away the thoughts that said, yes, the Goblin was right. 

But he wasn’t a killer. Norman Osborn’s death had been an accident. Mr. Stark had said so. 

But Mr. Stark couldn’t stop the section of ceiling as it gave one more pop and came crashing down. 

Peter yelled and covered his head—

And the Goblin grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the path of the falling debris. 

Peter gasped and tugged his hand out of the Goblin’s. 

“What?” he asked. “You…what did you do?” 

“Please. I didn’t save you,” the Goblin scoffed. “If you’re going to die, it will be by my hand.” 

“Oh…” Peter said, nodding. That was weird. 

Then his ears caught the sirens. 

He straightened with a gasp. Help was on the way. 

Peter turned to rush back into the hallway. He could see his escape now. He’d run back outside, and Mr. Stark would probably be there to help him get to safety. The Goblin would be arrested. He’d see May, and Ned and MJ. Maybe even the rest of the Avengers. 

“Damn,” the Goblin cursed behind him. “Too public here, isn’t it?” 

“Huh?” Peter turned. 

The Goblin punched him hard on the side of the head, and he collapsed.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was a day late, I was traveling! But here's chapter 14!

Peter awoke to darkness. His first thought was, yep, I’m dead. This is it. 

He paused thought when he recognized the ceiling. That dark paneling was familiar…

He sat up like a shot and stared into the face of Harry Osborn. Stifling a gasp, he said, 

“Harry?” 

“Hey, man,” the boy said. He sat in a chair next to the bed Peter lay on, hands in his lap. Upon closer inspection, his eyes were red, as if he’d been crying. “Glad you’re okay.” 

“How’d I get here?” Peter said, sweeping a hand through his hair. “Last thing I remember…” 

He gasped. The Goblin. Where was he? 

Harry blinked. “Oh, uh, I brought you here. I found you outside a burning apartment.” He smiled lopsidedly. “I saved you cause…I mean, the city wouldn’t last long without Spiderman, you know?” 

Peter froze. Then in slow motion, looked down at himself. 

He still wore the suit. 

“Oh god,” Peter said. “Harry, I’m sorry,” he said, looking up. “I was going to tell you, I swear, I just—” 

Harry leaned forward and put his hand on Peter’s arm. “Hey, it’s okay.” He stood and walked across the room to a small fridge, opening it and grabbing a soda. “This is my room at Oscorp, by the way. You probably didn’t recognize it. I just…” He took a sip. “Wanted some place private to talk.” 

“So…you’re not mad?” 

Harry gave one of his soft smiles. “No, I’m not mad.” He looked down. “Uh…you remember the fight with the Goblin, right?” 

Peter slumped. “Yeah…” He sighed, then straightened. “But, he said he was gonna take me somewhere. You said you found me outside the building?” 

Harry nodded. “That’s true.” 

“But, he wanted to kill me.” 

“Maybe he thought he’d come back for you later, or something. Either way, he was gone when I got there.” 

Peter bowed his head. “It’s so messed up. All of this.” 

“Messed up?” 

“I mean, why get revenge?” Peter looked at Harry. “What’s it going to do? It can’t be worth it.” 

Harry sat back down, looking troubled. “Maybe he has a good reason, though.” 

“But killing Spider—I mean, me? That’s just more death.” 

Harry’s eyes hardened, and he leaned forward, looking at nothing in particular. A moment of silence passed between the two boys. Harry let out a breath and said quietly,   
“I asked you earlier if you’d ever leave New York. You’re still sure you want to stay?” 

Peter leaned against the headboard, brow lowering. “Of course, yeah. I’ve got to protect the city.” 

Harry gave a nod. “Okay.” He shook his head. “Well, I gave you an out.” 

Peter frowned. “What?” 

“Nothing.” Harry stood, and held out his hand. Peter took it, getting up with a groan. 

“Oh, everything hurts,” he whined. Harry laughed. The boys walked over to the window, fingers laced together. Harry leaned his hand on Peter’s shoulder, fingering his right sleeve.

The lights of the city calmed Peter, as they always did. He let out a breath. 

“You’re really okay with this?” he asked, voice soft. “With me being Spiderman?” 

“Yeah. I mean, I was surprised. I’m sorry, I uh, took the mask off.” He held it out to Peter. 

“Oh.” Peter hadn’t realized the other boy had been holding it. He smiled and took it. “Well, thanks.” 

He looked to Harry, their eyes meeting. In a second, their lips came together. 

Peter knew in a second there was something different about this kiss. It felt…odd, somehow. He tried to make it count, facing Harry fully and lacing his fingers into the boy’s hair.

The feeling vanished as Harry released his hand, tracing his own fingers up Peter’s arms, leaving electricity behind with every touch. He cradled Peter’s head, to fit their lips together better. Peter shivered at the sudden intensity. 

That’s what was different. Their first kiss had been passionate, sure, but that had been a spark. This was a flame. 

Peter reached for Harry’s shirt, sliding his hand beneath the fabric and feeling the other boy’s waist. Sure, this kiss was different. But maybe he didn’t mind. Maybe he wanted to burn. 

“Harry,” he mumbled. “I think I’m in love with you.” 

Harry smiled against his lips. “Good.” 

Peter smiled too. 

"Cause that’ll make this so much easier.” 

His spider sense didn’t even warn him as the knife plunged into his chest. 

It felt like getting punched. Like a lightning strike. But the biggest feeling of all was: 

This can’t be real. 

Peter stumbled back, looking from Harry to the knife. His feet fell out from under him, the bed barely catching his fall. 

Harry just smiled like nothing was wrong. “Sorry, Pete,” he said. “But that’s what you get for killing my father.” As he spoke, his words became harsher, until his eyes were filled with such hatred Peter could hardly believe this was the same boy he’d just been kissing. 

“I didn’t kill—” He cut off as he coughed, something liquid spilling down his chin. He touched it, and his eyes widened at the scarlet on his fingers. His eyes watered. What was happening? Was this a nightmare? A cold fear penetrated him. 

“You can’t lie to me, Peter.” Harry stepped forward, kneeling before him. “You’re Spiderman, and Spiderman killed Norman Osborn.” 

“I didn’t do it,” Peter said, voice a thin croak. He coughed again, and more blood spilled out. “It was an accident.” 

Harry sneered. “I know murder when I see it.” He tapped on the hilt of the knife, pushing it in deeper. Peter cried out. The pain was like nothing he’d ever felt. Not even when Mr. Osborn had beaten him up. It was like fire and lightning and storm all at once. 

Harry took a deep breath. “Well, I guess there’s nothing to do but sit here and watch you die. I can’t wait, personally—” 

The window exploded. 

Peter threw his arms up, and Harry jumped to his feet just as an Iron Man suit landed on the floor and pointed a hand at Harry. 

“Get away from him,” Mr. Stark’s voice came from the suit, harsher than Peter had ever heard it. 

Without hesitation, Harry turned and ran toward the door. Mr. Stark’s flight stabilizers activated and he turned toward the door, poised to chase after the boy. 

“Mr. Stark…” Peter croaked. 

He turned toward Peter. Instantly the suit opened up and Mr. Stark ran out. 

Peter had never seen Mr. Stark so panicked before. He was pale as a ghost as he looked Peter over, from the blood on his chin to the knife in his chest. 

“Rhodey,” Mr. Stark shouted. “I need medical.” 

Another suit came flying in, and Mr. Rhodes jumped out, eyes widening when he saw Peter. 

“Shit,” he muttered, and ran over. 

“Hey, Pete,” Mr. Stark said, running a hand through the boy’s hair. “You’re gonna be okay, all right? You’re going to be fine.” 

Peter tried to nod, but hissed in pain at the movement. 

Mr. Rhodes turned to Mr. Stark. “We’ve got to remove the knife. But I didn’t bring a medical kit, I don’t have any bandages.” 

Mr. Stark blinked and took a shaking breath. He looked up and his gaze settled on the bed. 

“Sheets,” he said. “That can work, right?” 

Mr. Rhodes nodded. Peter’s vision was blurring by this point, and he barely noticed the ripping noises as the two men prepared some makeshift bandages. He vaguely felt Mr. Stark lifting him up and laying him on the bed. “Okay, Pete,” he said. “We’ve got to remove the knife. It’s gonna hurt a little…oh who am I kidding, it’s going to hurt like a bitch, but you’ve got to stay with me, okay?” 

Peter gave a small nod. With that, Mr. Rhodes gripped the hilt of the knife, and Mr. Stark held his shoulders. Suddenly Peter didn’t know if he wanted the knife to come out. How much was this going to hurt? 

He didn’t get a chance to say anything. Within moments, Mr. Rhodes was pulling the knife out. 

Peter felt like he was seeing it through a tv. Because this couldn’t be him. This screaming, bleeding mess couldn’t be Peter Parker. The pain congregated in his chest like the eye of a hurricane. There was so much red. Was that all blood? And still the knife wasn’t out yet. As an afterthought he slammed his teeth together, blocking any more screams from escaping. But the agony continued. How long was this knife? 

And suddenly it was over. He’d lost himself to the pain for a few moments, and when he came back to himself there were makeshift bandages around his chest and Mr. Stark was carrying him. His fingers twitched. 

“Hey,” Mr. Stark said, voice soft. “You did great, kiddo. We’re gonna take you back to the compound now, okay?” 

Peter tried to smile, but exhaustion came over him in a tidal wave. Mr. Stark seemed to get it though, because he gripped Peter’s shoulder just a little tighter. Within moments, Mr. Stark was flying out the window followed by Mr. Rhodes. Wind ruffled his hair. He shivered in the chill. 

As he drifted into unconsciousness, he heard Mr. Stark say, “We’re almost there. We’re almost there.”


	15. Chapter 15

Tony slammed his fist down on the lab table. Pieces of equipment flew everywhere, but he didn’t bother to pick it up. He just punched the table again. His hand burned with pain, but he could take it. Peter had already experienced more pain that this tonight. 

How could things have gone so wrong so fast? 

Tony lifted his fist again, but Rhodey said from the door, 

“Hey, Tones. Maybe stop beating up the table?” 

Tony sighed and fell back into a chair. He rubbed a hand over his face. He hadn’t slept in two days. 

“I should’ve been there. He never should’ve been alone. Why didn’t I—” 

“I don’t think blaming yourself is going to help him now,” a voice said from the door. Nat walked in and sat on the table, crossing her arms. 

Tony blinked. “Well what else is there to do? We weren’t there to stop it. That’s on us.” 

She nodded. “Maybe you’re right.” 

“But maybe not,” Rhodey said, walking up to them. He shook his head. “We messed up. Yeah. But none of us are perfect. We tried our best, and we got there in time to save him.” 

“He shouldn’t have needed to be saved from that wound in the first place,” Tony snapped. 

“Yeah, but—” 

“We couldn’t save him from an Osborn psychopath. Again.” 

Tony paused at his own harsh tone, and looked away in apology. 

Nat spoke up. “Whatever we did, or didn’t do, it’s over now. Peter’s here, and he’s going to be okay.” 

“We think,” Tony said. 

“He’s going to be okay,” she said again, firmer this time. “Come on, Tony. He’s survived worse than this.”

“He has a punctured lung.” 

“Nat’s right,” Rhodey said. “He’s got healing abilities. He’s going to pull through.” 

A knock on the lab door startled them all out of the conversation. They turned to see Bruce opening the door and shuffling in. 

“Uh, hey,” he said, adjusting his glasses. 

“Is he okay?” Tony rose to his feet. 

Bruce nodded. “He’s going to be waking up any second now.” 

For the first time in days, Tony smiled. “All right. Then let’s go see him.” 

 

_

 

Tony watched as Peter woke. It started as a twitching in his eyebrows, his fingers moving slightly, his head moving to the left. His eyes opened, and Tony gave him a smile.

“Hey.” 

Peter blinked slowly. “Uh, hey.” He looked around to Nat, Bruce, and Rhodey, then let out a breath. “You guys had to save me again, didn’t you?” 

“What do you remember?” Rhodey asked. 

Peter lifted himself into a sitting position with only a little wincing. “Uh…you were there. And you.” He nodded at Tony. “Something hurt a lot.” He put a hand to his bandaged chest, now covered by a soft cotton shirt. “Harry was there. There was a knife.” His mouth opened, and his face fell. “Oh. Yeah.” 

Tony could practically hear the boy’s heart breaking. He pulled his legs in and settled his chin on his knees. Tony seen Peter happy and despondent, in the worst pain and at the top of the world. But now he just looked sad. 

“You all right?” Nat said, putting a hand on his arm. “Is it the Goblin?” 

Peter let out a half-hearted laugh. “No. I could handle another one of those. But it’s just…” He paused, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I thought I knew him.” 

“Harry, you mean,” Tony said. 

“Yeah.” Peter nodded. He drew his shoulders together. “How could he do that? He’s nice, and sweet, not a killer. He wouldn’t hurt people. He wouldn’t hurt me.” 

Tony sighed. “I hate to say it, Pete, but that’s what happened.” 

Peter glared at him, and Tony blinked in surprise. “You don’t understand. He betrayed me.” 

“Peter,” Nat said. “Peter we’re probably the only ones who do understand.” 

“You think we haven’t been betrayed too?” Tony said, a picture of Obadiah Stane coming to his mind. 

“All of us have,” Rhodey said. 

Bruce nodded in agreement. “We’ve all trusted people. And sometimes they hurt us. We don’t expect it, but it happens sometimes.” 

Nat smirked dryly. “Hey, in this business, it’s an occupational hazard.” 

Peter didn’t look convinced. “It’s just he…I…we…” 

“I know you liked him,” Tony said quietly. “And I’m sorry.” 

Peter nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, it sucks.” 

“Hey, why don’t you come up to the living room? You can watch some tv and Tony can make you something in the kitchen,” Rhodey said. 

“Uh, okay,” Peter said. “That uh, sounds good.” 

Rhodey smiled. In a few minutes, Peter was laid out on the couch, though he didn’t need to lie down technically. His injuires were already healing. Tony was in the kitchen, making the kid a few omelets. He set one on the bar separating the kitchen from the living room, but Peter remained on the couch. Tony scowled and went back to cooking. Nat sat in a chair adjacent to the couch reading, and Rhodey leaned against the living room wall drinking a coke. Bruce was in the kitchen with Tony, making himself a sandwich. Overall, the mood was depressing as hell. 

“FRIDAY?” Peter asked. “Can you play some music?” 

“Of course. What would you like?” 

“Anything as long as it’s sad.” 

Tony straightened and said, “No, FRIDAY, don’t do that.” He walked out of the kitchen up to Peter, who had an arm over his eyes. “Kid.” He nudged him. “Pete.” 

“Let me be sad,” he mumbled.

“Nope.” 

“Oh, my first real relationship goes down in flames and I’m not allowed to mope for one goddamn second?” 

Tony raised his eyebrows at Nat, who shrugged. “First, language. Second, no you’re not allowed to mope. You’re raising the depression levels in here like crazy.” 

Peter just rolled over, facing the couch. 

“Fine,” Tony said. “I know how to cheer you up.” 

Rhodey gave him a look of curiousity, and Tony mouthed ‘trust me’. “FRIDAY,” he said to the ceiling. “Play Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You.” 

Peter sat up like a shot as Mariah Carey’s voice began to play. “It’s not even Christmas!” 

“True. But I happen to know it is physically impossible for you to be sad when this song is on.” 

The boy tried to hide a smile as the drums and bells came in, and he looked at the ceiling and said, “Goddammit,” a grin emerging on his face. 

“There it is,” Nat said with a smile of her own. 

In the kitchen, Bruce began getting flour and sugar down from the cabinets. When questioned, he simply said, “Christmas music calls for cookies, right?” 

Peter leaped to his feet. “Can we make sugar cookies?” 

Rhodey stepped away from the wall and said, “Sure. Why not?” 

“Awesome.” His phone buzzed, and he blinked. “Oh, wait, that’s May. Can I call her real quick?” 

Tony nodded, messing with Peter’s hair. “Sure. Don’t take too long.” 

Peter rushed off down the hall, putting the phone to his ear. Tony turned to Bruce with a grateful smile. “Thanks,” he said. 

“No problem,” Bruce said with a shrug. “He’s a good kid. He deserves to be happy.” 

“Yeah. Let’s hope his aunt doesn’t kill us all, though.” 

Rhodey laughed. 

In a few moments Peter was walking back in, and the oven was preheating. “Hey,” he said, sitting on the bar. 

“How’d it go?” Tony said. 

“Okay. She kind of uh, shouted at me for getting hurt, but she’s just worried.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “She wants me to take a few days off.” 

“Well I do too. You need to rest up. Now come on, these cookies aren’t going to make themselves.” 

Peter grinned and hopped down to the floor. 

The next half hour passed in a warm, Christmas-y mood, with Christmas music playing on the speakers and tray upon tray of cookies made. Peter kept sneaking bites of dough, and eventually everyone ate a little. Hey, it was good. The wait for the cookies to bake was passed with Nat trying to get Peter to dance, which he eventually did. 

It was nice to see the kid smile again. This wasn’t going to be easy for him. The first betrayal never was. But at least he got this, this time to be himself. And he wasn’t at a hundred percent yet. Every few moments when he wasn’t dancing, his eyes would take on a shadow that made Tony’s chest tighten. His heart was still broken. Tony wasn’t going to blame him for that. But for now, at least he could smile, even for just a little while. 

 

\--

 

Later that night, Tony found Peter asleep on the couch, curled up in a fuzzy green blanket. 

Tony walked up to the couch and poked the kid’s shoulder. His little brown eyes blinked open, and he mumbled, 

“ 'time is it?” 

“Two-thirty,” Tony said, voice just above a whisper. “You should get to your own bed, you know.” 

“But I’m comfy here.” 

“You’ll be more comfy in the morning when you don’t wake up with a crick in your neck. Come on,” Tony said, pulling on the kid’s arm. After a moment, Peter groaned and lifted himself up, keeping the blanket around his shoulders. Tony began walking him to his room. 

“Sorry for uh, bothering you,” Peter said. 

“It’s okay,” Tony said. “I was awake anyway.” 

Peter squinted. “Then what are you harassing me for? You should be in your own room too.” 

Tony rolled his eyes. 

“And uh, thanks for earlier. That was fun.” 

A smile crept onto Tony’s face. “No problem, kiddo.” 

“It really sucks.” 

“Yeah.” Tony nodded. “It does.” 

Peter stopped. “You said you’d been um…that this had happened to you too. Can I ask when?” 

Tony paused, and took a breath. “Well…you would’ve been five, I think. It was…my old mentor.” 

“Oh. I think I heard about that. He made his own suit, didn’t he?” 

“Yeah.” 

Peter nodded and turned, walking again. “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay. Happens to the best of us,” he said. 

Peter gave a tiny smile. “Well, really, thanks.” He sighed and looked down. “It’s gonna suck fighting him again.” 

Tony put a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Wait, again?” 

“Yeah. It’s my issue. I caused this. It makes sense that I should take care of it.” 

“Not on your own you won’t,” Tony said. “We’re helping you out, okay?” 

“But it’s my problem.” 

“And we’re going to help you.” 

“But—” 

“No buts. This isn’t just your issue, okay?” 

Peter opened his mouth, looking like he was going to object, but he let out a long breath instead. “Sure,” he said. “Yeah, okay.” 

“Good. You’re not alone, okay? We’ve got your back.” 

He smiled. “Yeah. Thanks.” 

“No problem.” They stopped at the door to Peter’s room, and the kid opened the door. 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.” 

Tony nodded. “Night, Pete.” 

“Night.”


	16. Chapter 16

The next day started off pretty much perfect, which was weird enough. Peter woke up at eleven thanks to his blackout curtains, and stumbled into the kitchen to Mr. Stark making lunch. Mr. Rhodes and Ms. Romanov were already in there, eating homemade burritos. 

“Afternoon, sleepyhead,” Ms. Romanov said with a smirk. 

“It’s only eleven fifteen,” Peter said with a yawn. “Mr. Stark, please tell me you saved me some breakfast.” 

A plate of waffles slid across the counter, and Peter caught it with a grateful, “Thanks, Mr. Stark.” 

“How’re you feeling today?” Mr. Stark asked. 

Peter looked down at his plate, then up again. “Pretty okay. Good, actually.” 

“That’s good.” 

“Yep,” Peter said around a mouthful of waffles. In moments, the waffles were gone, replaced by burritos. 

“I don’t know how you do that,” Mr. Rhodes said, pointing at Peter’s growing pile of empty plates. 

Peter grinned. “Teenager with enhanced metabolism, remember?” 

Mr. Rhodes laughed. “Right.” 

“Got any plans for today?” Ms. Romanov asked. 

“Um…no? I was kinda just gonna do nothing. Watch a movie maybe? Have a full lord of the rings extended edition marathon?” 

Ms. Romanov nodded in approval. “Sounds good.” 

“Yeah. I think it’ll be nice to relax for a couple days. At least until May decides I can keep doing Spiderman stuff.” 

“Which won’t be for at least five days,” Mr. Stark said. “That decision’s up to me, too.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Peter groaned. 

“It’ll be good for you. You deserve some rest,” Mr. Rhodes said. “Especially after all that excitement the past couple days.” 

“Yeah.” Peter laughed. “I guess you could call it that—” His phone buzzed in his pocket, then began to ring. “Sorry, lemme get this.” He pulled it out and stared at the contact on screen. 

His heart stopped. Still, he picked up. In a careful, tight voice, looking straight at Mr. Stark, he said, 

“What do you want, Harry?” 

All activity in the kitchen stopped. Mr. Stark looked at him and stretched out a hand. “Let me take it,” he said.

Peter shook his head. He wanted to take this himself. 

“So nice of you to pick up,” Harry said on the other end of the line. “I was worried you’d be angry with me.” 

“You think I’m mad?” Peter asked, turning. “Oh, we’re well past that.” Ignoring every other person in the room’s plea for the phone, he stalked out and down the hall. “You had no right to do what you did.” His voice was low, laced with a growl. 

“Rights or no, that’s not why I’m calling.” 

Peter stopped. “Then what do you want?” 

“I had an invitation for you, actually. An event I think you’d be interested in.” 

“Just hang up, Harry. I really don’t want to do this.” 

“So you don’t want to talk to me? How cowardly of you. Let me just say what I need to say though, then you may do as you please.” 

Peter’s eyes burned, and he leaned a forearm against the wall. He tried to tell himself he wouldn’t cry. What had happened to Harry? How had he gone from sweet to psychopathic? What could have changed him? 

It was the serum, of course. Peter remembered Dr. Banner saying it caused insanity. But what if that wasn’t it? What if Harry really was just angry? Then this was all Peter’s fault. He never should have let Norman Osborn die. 

Harry had continued speaking, and Peter came out of his thoughts and asked, “Sorry, what?” 

Harry sighed. “What I said was, I think this proposition will interest you. Or rather, you have no choice.” 

“How do you figure that?” Peter asked, already exhausted with the effort it took to keep up this conversation. He shifted and leaned his back against the wall. 

“Because if you don’t do as I ask, some damage may befall that poor aunt of yours. And maybe your friends too. What were their names? Ned? And MJ. She was pretty.” 

A burst of anger flared in Peter’s chest. “Don’t you dare.” 

“Oh, but I would. Let me just get to the demands, all right?” 

Peter gritted his teeth and said, “Fine. What do you want?” 

“I’m having a banquet in honor of my father, and the future of Oscorp now that it’s about to be mine. I’d love it if Spiderman came.” 

“So what, you want me to show up to a party? How the hell does that benefit you?” 

“Please. What could be more satisfying than killing Spiderman in front of hundreds of people?” 

Peter’s jaw stiffened. “So you want me to come to your party just so you can kill me? You want me to willingly come to my death?” 

“More or less.” 

He shook his head. “No. I won’t do it.” 

“Then say goodbye to your aunt and friends. Oh, and how about I throw in the Avengers too? It wouldn’t be too hard to kill them. In fact, I daresay it would be quite simple.”

Peter’s breath caught. He straightened and gripped his free hand into a fist. 

“So, Spider-man? What’s your answer?” 

“Fine,” he said in a whisper. “But don’t expect me to die so easily.” 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less, Pete. I’ll send you the invitation later.” 

His heart skipped a beat. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Whatever you say, Pete. Bye now.” After a moment he said, “Oh. And if you tell anyone, I’m going to kill your family. Okay, bye!” The line went dead. 

Peter stood in the hallway, holding the phone in both hands, for several minutes. His thoughts reeled. Harry was offering him a chance to save his aunt and friends. And the Avengers. He’d already said he’d come. And he wouldn’t go down without a fight. 

What was Harry thinking, holding a fight like this in such a public environment? Maybe he really was crazy. Either way, Peter wasn’t going to just let him win. Maybe this was his chance to finally take Harry down. 

His heart hurt like hell. A tear fell down his cheek. How was he supposed to do this? Take down Harry? But he still loved him. He couldn’t help that. And now he was just supposed to fight him? The memories of their first date were still fresh in his mind. Hell, even their first kiss. Peter had never felt anything like that. It was one of his best memories. 

And now here he was, faced with the reality that his boyfriend was now his enemy. 

He let out a long sigh and rubbed his face with a hand. 

With a jolt, he realized someone was coming down the hall toward him. “Mr. Stark,” he said, putting the phone back in his pocket. He sniffled and pursed his lips. “What uh, what are you doing here?” 

“What happened?” Mr. Stark asked, serious. “What’d he say?” 

Peter sucked in a breath. He closed his for a moment, then opened them and said, “Nothing.” 

Mr. Stark narrowed his eyes. “You sure?” 

“Yeah. He uh, was just messing with me, I’m pretty sure.” 

The man sighed. “That sucks.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Come back to the kitchen? There’s still some cookies left over from last night.” 

Peter nodded. “Yeah, okay.” 

As he and Mr. Stark walked back down the hall, a plan began forming in his mind. Hell yeah, he’d go to this party. But he wasn’t about to bow down to Harry’s every expectation. So no, he wouldn’t show up. Not as Spiderman. 

He’d go as Peter Parker.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the overwhelming support. This is my first fic to get so much attention, and it's pretty amazing! I'm so grateful to all of you. We're entering the endgame (eyyy get it?) of the fic now, so things are gonna get angsty. Again, thank you so much! 
> 
> p.s. if you get catradora 'princess prom' vibes from this chapter, you're absolutely right

Peter spent every spare second of the rest of the day planning what he was going to do for the banquet. When Mr. Rhodes, Dr. Banner, Ms. Romanov, and Mr. Stark weren’t watching a movie with him, cooking with him, or working in the lab with him, he was planning. Mr. Stark had long ago gotten him a nice tux to wear to events, so attire was already taken care of. The text with the details came at 3:30 pm. He’d been in the lab with Mr. Stark at the time, and he told him it was just May. When Mr. Stark wasn’t looking, Peter looked at the text and saved the ticket. The banquet was going to happen Monday evening at a large hall in the city, at 8 pm. He could manage that. 

The following day was Sunday, and the day Peter was supposed to head back to May’s. He found his backpack and overnight things in his room, where he packed them away along with the suit. It was nicer than he’d expected, with a navy blue jacket and pants, red shirt, and black tie. Mr. Stark must’ve known he’d like to have something with Spiderman’s colors. Peter folded it carefully and slid it into the backpack. 

A knock at his door startled him out of his packing. He jumped to his feet and turned to see Mr. Stark standing in the doorway. 

“Hey,” Peter said. “Um, what’s up?” 

Mr. Stark walked in and sat on the edge of the bed, hands clasped. “I’ve got an offer for you. I don’t expect you to take it, but still…” 

Peter sat next to him. “Sure. What is it?” 

Mr. Stark closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them and said, “You can stay here until this blows over. We can take care of Harry for you.” 

Peter stiffened. “No.” 

“That’s what I thought.” He nodded and sighed. “Look kid, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Just,” he paused. “Be careful. I know you like to jump into dangerous stuff like it doesn’t matter, but it does. Don’t be as self-sacrificing as me, okay?” He smiled lopsidedly. 

“I know, I just…” 

“Can’t help it. Look, I get it. For us, danger is just an occupational hazard. But you’re still getting there. Try not to get in over your head, is what I’m saying.” 

Peter looked down, crossing his arms. “Yeah.” He closed his eyes. Why’d Mr. Stark have to guilt trip him like this? This wasn’t fair. He was going to do what he had to do. 

“You listening?” 

Peter jolted, then said with a half-hearted chuckle, “Yeah, I am. Just thinking.” 

Mr. Stark narrowed his eyes, but shrugged and said nothing. He rose to his feet and walked to the door. “See you next weekend, kiddo. Happy should be out front with the car.” 

“Sure. See you.” 

 

Tony bit his lip as he exited the kid’s room. He wasn’t stupid. He knew Peter was planning something, but he didn’t know what it was. Mentally he made a note to visit the city this week. If whatever Peter was planning became a colossal mess, he’d be there to help clean it up. 

 

On Monday afternoon, Peter let out a huff as he set his backpack down on his bedroom floor back in May’s apartment. Yesterday, she’d been just as worried as he thought she’d be. The moment he opened the door, she’d pulled him into a hug, and insisted she get a look at his injury. With a groan he’d pulled down his shirt collar, showing her the completely healed wound. Only a light scar remained. Still, he’d needed that hug. Wrapping himself in her warmth had been more than comforting. It was like coming home. 

But right now, he had this party to worry about. Or banquet, or whatever it was. Yesterday he’d hung the suit up in his closet, and now he took it out. He folded it carefully and put it in his backpack. After a moment’s consideration, he put the Spider-suit in as well. He pulled the backpack on and stepped into the living room, walking past May. 

“Where’re you headed?” she asked. 

“Just the library. Going to study.” 

“Okay,” she said. “Be safe.” 

“I will,” he said, swallowing a lump in his throat. He hated lying to her like this. But if he didn’t, she’d never let him do this. 

Without another word, he stepped out the door and breathed a sigh of relief. Now he was on his way. He took a train, then got off as close to the venue as he could. He found an alley and changed into his spider suit, putting the dark blue suit on over it. Fortunately the addition of the red shirt covered any of the spider suit. Peter felt a rush of comfort at the webshooters on his wrists. He’d definitely be safer going into the banquet like this. After that, he put his backpack on, and it was only a short walk down the street before he stood in front of the enormous hall where the banquet was held. It was a nice venue, with a large glass front and enormous doors, also glass. After webbing his backpack to the alley Peter entered one of them, and his jaw dropped. 

This wasn’t a banquet. This was more of a gala with dinner served on the side. 

People walked among him in nicer clothes than he’d ever owned. A woman brushed past his shoulder in a dress that he swore was made of diamonds. A man sat in a nearby chair wearing a light pink suit much nicer than Peter’s. And that wasn’t even the craziest part. This place was huge. The ceiling stretched three stories high, with two large glass chandeliers sprinkling light from above. An arched doorway on the right opened into what looked to be a dance floor. This room housed two long tables, each set with beautiful silverware. 

“Okay,” Peter whispered to himself. “You’ve got this.” 

“Excuse me, young man,” a man said, coming up to him. “But this is a private event—” 

“Oh, I have an invitation.” Peter dug his phone out of his pocket and showed him the invitation Harry had sent him. 

The man blinked and adjusted his glasses. “I see. Very well. Enjoy.” With that, he walked off. 

Peter let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and took what looked like a tiny quiche from a water’s tray. As he walked among the guests, he realized more and more that unlike Mr. Stark, he did not belong here. He bumped into people every few feet, and stumbled through introducing himself to others. 

Thankfully the dinner wouldn’t start until later. Peter really didn’t want to test those skills yet. Instead, he nibbled at snacks on waiter’s trays as he made his way around the room looking for Harry. The boy wasn’t anywhere to be seen, though. Peter frowned. He made his way into the dancing room, choosing to lean against the wall and watch rather than join in. He wasn’t very good at dancing anyway. 

Oh, god. What was he doing here? No one knew where he was. If he needed help, how was he going to get it? Maybe he should send a text to Ned. He got out his phone and did just that. Within seconds he got a reply. 

starwarsnerd: DUDE??? Are you gonna be ok?? 

me: yeah. but if I need help I’ll text u, k? 

starwarsnerd: sure. But lemme know right away if u do 

me: yup

starwarsnerd: ok. Be careful man

me: yeah I will 

Peter sighed and put his phone back in his pocket. For a few moments he watched the people dance, tapping his foot nervously and biting his lip. All he had to do was wait for Harry. He’d figure things out from there—

“Well, look who it is,” a voice said behind him. Peter whipped around, spinning on his heels. Harry stared back at him. 

He looked good. That was no secret. His dark hair was combed back, and his dark green suit clung to his muscles. Peter gulped. This was going to be harder than he thought. 

Harry glared at him. “I thought I told Spiderman to come. What are you doing here, Peter?” 

Peter straightened, gathering his hands into fists. “I don’t have to do everything you tell me.” He swallowed. 

The other boy smirked. Peter’s heart skipped a beat. “I guess that makes sense for you. You always were stubborn.” 

“Harry,” Peter said with a deep breath. “I don’t want to fight you.” 

Harry narrowed his eyes. “You don’t get it, Pete. You don’t have a choice here. I’m getting my revenge, whether you want it or not.” He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, the hatred was dimmed, carefully masked beneath the surface. He extended his hand to Peter. “Dance with me?” 

Peter’s chest clenched, and he looked around out of the corner of his eye. A few people were watching him and Harry. So he couldn’t say no, not as publicly as he wanted to. 

“I’d really rather not,” he said carefully. 

“Come on now,” Harry said. “People are watching.” 

After a moment, Peter begrudgingly took the other boy’s hand, and let Harry lead him onto the dance floor. It was awkward, at first. Peter didn’t want to give up the lead, and Harry wouldn’t give any ground. Finally Peter let go of his control, and let the boy lead him around the dance floor. Classical music played from somewhere, but all Peter’s focus was on Harry. Their eyes were locked, neither one willing to be the one to look away first. 

If Peter concentrated, he could pretend things were like they had been before. Like Harry wasn’t the next Goblin. Like this was just a romantic dance, not a situation where the lives of his friends and family were at stake. He knew thinking like that was dangerous. But looking into the eyes of his sort-of-ex-boyfriend, how could he not? 

But then Harry spoke, and the illusion shattered. 

“I’m so glad you’re willing to risk your life for your friends. That makes this so much more interesting.” 

Peter gritted his teeth. “I guess.” 

The other boy laughed. “You don’t have to be so mad, dude. Just pretend this is a date.” 

I tried that, he wanted to say. You ruined it. Instead he said, 

“I don’t think that’s an option anymore. I mean, you did kind of stab me.” 

“True,” Harry said with a nod. “But you’re all healed now, right? That super healing must come in handy.” 

“…I suppose.” 

“Exactly. But let’s get to tonight’s show, shall we?” He let Peter drift away till their arms were extended straight out toward each other, hands clasped. Then he pulled his arm in, spinning Peter until his back was at Harry’s chest. 

Harry spoke in low tones in Peter’s ear. “As soon as this dance is over, I’m going to go back into the other room and greet a few guests. You’re going to come in with me, but I want to you go to the back of the room. There’s a door that enters into a stairwell, that goes to the storage rooms above this floor. You’re going to head there and change into that embarrassment you call a suit. I’ve already had your backpack moved up from the alley. I’m going to follow after a few minutes and change into my own suit. After that, well…” He turned and lowered Peter into a dip, faces barely an inch apart. “It’s showtime. And I won’t let you get away this time.” 

Peter never broke eye contact. “Fine. But I won’t go down without a fight.” 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less of New York’s very own Spiderman.” 

Within moments, Harry let Peter go and exited back into the entrance room. Peter let out a long breath and scraped a hand through his hair. 

“Okay,” he whispered to himself. “Let’s do this.” 

He followed Harry’s instructions to a T, finding the door at the back of the room, and making his way up the flight of stairs to the storage rooms above. He had just entered out of the stairwell when he saw the two security guards, guns at their hips, standing in front of the entrance to the storage. He hissed and for a moment he was afraid they’d catch him. It only took another moment of thought to jump up to the ceiling. After that it was only a simple crawl across the ceiling above their heads. 

Still, the door was closed. He bit his lip. A thought occurred. He stretched out a hand and shot out a ricochet web against the far wall. The guard on the left was too late to catch it when it smacked right into his face. Peter tried not to giggle as the two guards ran all around the hallway trying to catch the runaway web. While their backs were turned, he ran into the storage room, shutting the door behind him. 

The storage room was one enormous room stretching the entire length of the building, filled to the brim with boxes, wooden planks, glass panels, and more boxes. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his backpack. His mask was still in there. He took off his dark blue suit and put it in the backpack, revealing his spidersuit beneath. He tugged on the mask with a, 

“Hey, Karen.” 

“Hello, Peter,” she said. “What are we up to tonight?” 

“Taking down my ex,” he said. “Hopefully.” Peter took a deep breath and put his backpack to the side. 

Click. 

He froze as he recognized the sound of a cocked gun. His spider-sense flared. “Hello?” he asked, keeping his tone flat. 

“You didn’t really think it would be that easy, did you?” Harry said behind him.


	18. Chapter 18

Peter’s heart made a staccato beat inside his chest. He tried to keep his breathing even. 

“Careful, Peter,” Karen said. “Don’t make any sudden movements.” 

“Yeah, I know,” he breathed. “So,” he said louder. “You’re just gonna shoot me? I thought you wanted something more entertaining than that.” 

“I’m going to let you turn around, slowly, and then I’ll explain. I do want to see your face.” 

Peter turned, staring Harry down. The boy wore his full Goblin armor, save for the glider, which was nowhere to be seen, and mask, which lay at his feet. He actually had two guns, one pointed at Peter’s face, the other at the ground. Peter recognized the guns as the ones the two guards outside had been holding. 

“What now?” he said. 

“You’re not going to take off your mask? Oh, well.” Harry shrugged. “See, I’m going to get my entertainment. I already know that. You know how I know? Cause no matter how much I might hate you Spiderman, you’re pretty good. I’m not taking any chances. So…that’s why I’ve got the guns.” 

Peter made a noncommittal noise as his mind raced. He had to get out of this. He raised his hands in surrender as he thought. There had to be a way… 

Oh. 

In a flash, he folded down the two middle fingers of his right hand and shot a web up to the ceiling. He pulled himself up a split second later. 

Harry laughed from the ground. “See? You’re good.” 

“Thanks, man,” Peter said. “I like to think I’m good at my job. Even if that means beating you.” 

The other boy grimaced. “Okay, less funny now.” He pointed a gun up at Peter. “Get down from there.” 

“Nope.” 

“Fine.” Harry gritted his teeth. He pulled the trigger. 

Peter leaped out of the way. “That was close,” he muttered. 

“Indeed,” Karen said. “I’d take those guns out, Peter.” 

“Okay,” he said. He leapt around the ceiling as Harry continued to fire, then reloaded the gun when he ran out of bullets. Soon the ceiling was riddled with holes, though none of them had touched Peter yet. 

Shouts echoed from the hallway. “The shots came from down here!” Someone said. 

Harry frowned. He pulled his mask up from the ground and put it on. “Guess we’re going to have company,” he said. “I’d rather not, though.” 

The door slammed open, and the two guards entered, both sporting bruises on their faces. Harry must have knocked them out fast. “Goblin,” one of them said. 

“Spiderman!” The other one shouted, pointing up at Peter. 

“Silence,” Harry said, holding up both of the guns and shooting both guards in the chest. 

“No!” Peter shouted as the guards went down. He ran over to them and webbed up the bleeding wounds. Their breaths were already weakening, but hopefully he’d gotten to them in time. “Karen, call 911,” he said in a shaking voice. “These guys need help.” 

“On it,” she said. 

“Well that’s no fun,” Harry said from behind him. Peter growled and stood to face Harry. 

“How could you do that?” he asked. “They weren’t a threat to you.” 

He blinked, the picture of innocence. “They were getting in my way. It’s as simple as that.” 

Peter blinked back tears. How was this the same boy he’d fallen in love with? 

“Now,” Harry said. “Are you going to fight me for real, or not?” 

Peter looked down. “Fine,” he said, voice harsh. “You want a fight? You got one.” 

He webbed a box marked fragile and with all his strength, flung it at Harry. The boy was thrown onto his back, and the box exploded in a mess of cardboard and glass. 

Harry grinned from the ground. “That’s more like it,” he said, staggering to his feet. He removed a pumpkin bomb from his waistband and flung it at Peter. “But let’s see how you like that.” 

Peter just barely ducked out of the way of the blast, though he was forced backwards a few feet. As the smoke cleared, he took a deep breath, then gasped. Where’d Harry gone? He heard a footstep behind him, then the whirring of technology. He turned around to see Harry on the glider, hovering above him. “Nicely done,” he said. “I admire your grit. But you won’t live for much longer.” 

He held out one of the guns, the other one being strapped to his hip. Peter took that moment of hesitation to jump out of the way, and the shot missed him. He webbed the front of the gun, and yanked it out of Harry’s grip. The boy cursed as the gun went flying, skidding across the storage room floor. 

Harry growled and yanked a knife out from his belt. Peter froze as he recognized it. The boy leapt off the glider and stalked towards him, a growl coming from his throat. He stabbed forward, over and over. 

Peter ducked out of the way of the slashes. They came at him from all directions; up, down, left and right. 

Why wasn’t he fighting back? All he could do was avoid being hit. He should be punching Harry, at least pushing him back. But he couldn’t do anything. He wouldn’t let himself. 

“Harry,” he said. “Please. Don’t do this.” 

In a flash Harry dropped the knife and gripped Peter by the throat. “You don’t get it,” he said through gritted teeth. “You killed my father. He was all I had.” 

“But…” Peter said, gasping. “What about me? I still love—” 

The boy’s grip tightened, and Peter’s air cut off. His body writhed in Harry’s grip, but he couldn’t get away. Not even his strength could save him. 

“I…you…shut up,” Harry stammered. His voice sounded different. Like he was on the verge of crying. “Just…SHUT UP!” 

With that, Harry threw Peter as hard as he could. He went skidding across the floor, slamming all the way into the far wall. 

Peter lay on the floor, coughing. His body burned with pain. But he couldn’t stay down. Groaning, he stumbled to his feet. God, he wanted to rip off his mask and just breathe. But he couldn’t. There was a villain to beat. 

“I won’t let you hurt anyone else,” he said in a weak voice. 

Harry barked out a laugh. “You thnk you can stop me? You can barely stand.” 

“I know,” he said. “But I can try.” He gathered his left hand into a fist. 

“By all means, go ahead. It’ll be that much more fun when I kill you.” 

Without another word, Peter broke into a run. He’d end this in one shot. At least, he would try to. Harry stood still, a menacing green shadow preparing to receive his attack.

He shot a web toward the ceiling with his right hand, pulling himself up. Harry stared up at him as he hung in the air for a split second. He stared right back. 

And then, the second was over. He plummeted towards the ground, left fist still raised. Just as Peter reached him, Harry lifted his arms in an X to catch the attack. 

Harry’s knees bent. 

The floor cracked. 

And exploded. 

Peter cried out, but it was too late. He was already falling. He tried to look around for a place to shoot a web, but he couldn’t see through the debris. Shards of plaster, wood, and metal flew around him for the seconds he was in the air. And then…

And then it was over. 

He slammed into the ground with so much force it almost knocked him out, and he spent the next few seconds trying to remember where he was. It came back to him in little details, in the wreckage around him, in the people huddled in corners looking on with wide eyes, and finally in the figure that stood opposite him. The boy in the goblin mask. 

That’s right. He was fighting Harry. They’d crashed through the floor and had landed in the middle of the party. They were in the second room, in the middle of the dance floor, which could barely be seen through the remains of the ceiling. He groaned as he lay on his side, then rolled over onto his back. He lifted himself up onto his elbows. 

Later, he would blame it on his head. He wasn’t thinking clearly. Nothing was making sense. He’d just fallen through a ceiling, after all. But in that moment, he didn’t use his webshooters. No, he looked around the wreckage and grabbed the nearest thing he could find. 

The gun Harry had dropped earlier. It had fallen with them. 

Peter gripped it and pointed it at Harry before he knew what he was doing. Harry, who lay against the far wall, grabbed his own gun and aimed for Peter’s head. 

Silence took over the room. Both boys stared at each other, guns held in their shaking hands. Peter closed his eyes and prepared himself for the bullet he knew was coming. At the same time, he held his finger to the trigger, ready to fire when Harry did. 

He waited. He lay still and waited. 

The shot never came. 

He opened his eyes and let out a breath. In his shock he stared at Harry. The boy was panting, holding the gun for dear life. And yet, he didn’t fire. From across the room Peter met his eyes. In that second, he felt something. A flicker of the Harry he’d known before. His suspicions were confirmed when Harry said in a small voice only Peter could hear, 

“Pete?” 

Peter dropped the gun and a sob escaped his mouth. He struggled to his feet and began stumbling toward Harry. 

“Harry,” he said. “Harry, can you hear me?” 

The boy nodded. 

Then he froze. He looked down and placed both hands on his head. He began muttering to himself, something like, 

“No. No, no, stop. Get out of my head!” 

By the time Peter was halfway across the floor, it was too late. Harry laughed and rose to his feet. “Sorry for the little hiccup, but it won’t happen again.” He grabbed a pumpkin bomb and said, “You’re too late, Spiderman. You may win this round, but I’ll be back.” With that, he threw the bomb to the floor. 

People screamed as the explosion shook the building. Peter covered his face with his hands and waited until the smoke began to clear. When it did, he cursed as he realized Harry was nowhere to be seen. 

He spent the next few minutes helping the civilians out of the building, making sure each of them got outside safe. The police Peter had called only five minutes before were there, along with an ambulance and fire truck. As soon as everyone was safe, Peter stood to the side and leaned against the glass windows. His head was spinning. How could he have missed it? How could he have—

“You’d better have a good explanation for this.” 

Peter jumped as Mr. Stark spoke, standing in front of him. He must have missed his arrival in the confusion. And boy, he looked mad. But Peter didn’t care about that. He just dove in for a hug. 

Mr. Stark froze, but in the end, hugged him back. “You’ve had a rough night, huh?” he said. 

Sniffling, Peter nodded. He backed up, and blinked when he saw Aunt May standing next to Mr. Stark. She looked torn between anger and concern. He couldn’t blame her. She wrapped him in a hug too. A few minutes later, they were all in a car driving back to Peter and May’s apartment. 

When he started talking, he couldn’t stop. “So like, we fell through the floor, and at first I couldn’t see, but then I could, and he pointed his gun at me, and I had one, and he almost shot me, but he didn’t—” 

“Wait, you were pointing guns at each other?” Mr. Stark asked, eyebrows raised. 

“No, no, that’s not it.” Peter shook his head. “Mr. Stark, May, you didn’t see what I saw. He said my name. I heard it.” 

“What are you saying, hon?” May asked. 

“I’m saying…Harry’s still in there!”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we are nearing the endgame! (get it? eyyy) Thank you so much for all your support, all of you. Thank you for the comments and kudos and hits and everything! You all deserve so much credit. Thanks so much! Anyway, enjoy the chapter! Sorry it's a short one, but the next one will be longer I promise. Thanks again!

When they arrived back at the apartment, May and Mr. Stark both agreed they’d each have to talk with Peter. Separately. He groaned as he listened to this. Why’d they both have to talk to him separately? Couldn’t they all just talk at the same time? They both said no. 

So, while Mr. Stark waited in the living room, May sat him down in his room and said, 

“Pete. You can’t do what you did tonight.” 

He sighed and bit his lip. “Yeah, I know.” 

“No, you don’t…. You can’t just go out like that. Lying to me, and not letting anybody know where you actually were? That’s dangerous. You could’ve been hurt. You could’ve been killed, and how would any of us know?” Her voice wavered, and that just made Peter feel worse. He bowed his head and said, 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I know you are,” she said, scooting closer and putting a hand around his shoulders. “And thanks for that. But you’ve gotta be careful, okay? People worry about you. Me more than anyone.” She smiled, and he gave a weak one back. “And we don’t lie here. Not in this house.” 

He nodded. “Yeah, I know.” 

“So don’t do it again, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

She squeezed his shoulder. “Pete…I’m proud of you. You know that, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“And I’m proud of what you do for this city.” She looked in his eyes. “Ben would be proud of you too. And your parents.” 

His heart tightened at the mention of his uncle and family. “You think?” 

“I know. But listen.” She took a breath. “You can’t do what you did tonight. I know I’ve told you three times at this point, but I want to you listen. I’m your family. You can talk to me. For a long time, it’s just been the two of us. And even though you’ve got more people in your life, I’m still here, okay?” She gave a soft smile. “That’s never going to change. But I need you to be honest with me.” 

He nodded, eyes watering. “Yeah, okay,” he said in a choked voice. 

“Oh, honey,” she said, wrapping him in a hug. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

 

\-- 

 

As soon as he was ready, Mr. Stark came in. May stood from the bed and said, 

“Okay, you two. I’ll be in the kitchen. Maybe I can make us something to eat.” 

“Please don’t burn anything?” Peter said. 

She grinned. “I’ll do my best.” With that, she left. 

Mr. Stark sighed and walked over to the desk, spinning the chair around and sitting on it backwards. He leaned his arms on the chair back and said, 

“I don’t think I need to tell you what you did wrong.” 

“Yeah,” Peter said with a sigh. “I know. I should’ve told you, and—” 

“Yeah, you should’ve. Please, don’t lie to me. Or your aunt. Or any of the others. We’re here to keep you safe, but we can’t do that if you don’t tell us the truth.” 

Peter bowed his head. 

“But beside that…I can’t blame you.” 

He looked up, incredulous. “Really?” 

“Nope.” Mr. Stark shook his head. “Back in the day, I would’ve done exactly the same thing. There was a period of time when, back when I still had the reactor in my chest, that it was killing me. I didn’t tell anyone. Not Pepper, not Happy, and Rhodey only found out by accident.” He shook his head. “Needless to say, that ended up a whole mess. I learned what happens when you lie to people. You think it’s keeping them safe. But it’s not.” He made eye contact with Peter. “So I know how you feel. But it’ll only end up worse for you if you keep lying. So with that…what did he really say to you? When he called.” 

Peter bit his lip, then took a breath. He told Mr. Stark everything. He told him how Harry had threatened his family, and that was why he’d kept it a secret. He told him how he’d been told to go as Spiderman, but showed up as Peter Parker. He even talked about the fight, with the guns and how neither of them had been able to shoot. How he’d seen that glimmer of Harry deep inside. 

“Yeah…that’s a lot,” Mr. Stark said, rubbing his neck. “Sometimes this kind of stuff happens. But we’re called the Avengers for a reason. We protect people, and if you’d told us, we could’ve kept an eye on your aunt and friends for you. And…” He smirked. “You really think a kid could take us out?” 

Peter chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right.” He looked down. “But it scared me. What he said. So I didn’t say anything. I really am sorry, though.” 

“I know. And I’m happy you are. But to change the subject a little…you said he’s still in there.” 

Peter straightened. “Yes. I know what I saw. That was the real Harry.” 

Mr. Stark pursed his lips. “That just makes this even messier.” He averted his eyes. “I’m worried for you. I know you think he’s in there, but he may have been faking that.” 

“What? Why would he—No.” Peter snapped. “I know he’s in there. That was Harry. That was my boyfriend, I…I know him, Mr. Stark. I felt it.” 

“You don’t know—” 

“Yes, I do,” he said, louder. “And if he’s still in there, maybe I can reach him. Maybe I can cure him!” 

Mr. Stark’s eyes hardened. “I don’t think there’s a cure for that serum, Pete.” 

“But we could try. You never know, right?” He picked up energy as he talked. “We could work on one together. Maybe we can still get samples of it—” 

“Peter, I don’t want to give you hope where there isn’t any.” 

His breath caught. He bit his fingernail and looked away. 

“I don’t think this is going to be as simple as you think. But regardless…” He walked over and put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “I’m here for you, okay? I have been since Berlin. I still remember what you said. ‘When you can do the things I can, but you don’t, and then the bad things happen—” 

“They happen cause of you,” Peter finished. 

“Yep. Look, I know you want to carry the world on your shoulders. But you’ve got a long way to go. All of us did when we started out. You think Bruce was tearing down buildings when he first became the Hulk? It’s a hard road. But we’ve all taken it. We’re here to help you. Got it?” 

Peter nodded. 

“Good.” Mr. Stark straightened and cleared his throat. “Oh, and when you come on Friday night, we’re going to be in a conference in the city, but we’ll be back before nine. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” 

“I’ll try.” 

“Good,” Mr. Stark said. “See you Friday.” 

“See you Friday, Mr. Stark. And…thanks.” 

Mr. Stark gave a little smile. “No problem, kiddo.”


	20. Chapter 20

Peter laughed with Ned as he walked out of school. “Hey, she’s scary,” he said. “If I miss another decathlon practice, I’m pretty sure she’ll kill me.” 

“She might,” Ned said with shrug. 

“Hell yeah I might.” 

Both boys jumped as MJ spoke behind them. 

“Can you stop doing that please?” Peter said, voice jumping an octave. 

“But that wouldn’t be near as fun,” she said in a frank voice. She pat him on the head like he was a kid. Peter just stared and shook his head as she joined them. 

“So you going to the compound again tonight?” Ned asked.

Peter turned. “It’s Friday, so yeah. Happy should be here any minute now.” 

“You’re hanging out with your superhero friends again?” MJ said. 

“Yep.” He grinned. 

She nodded and pursed her lips. “Cool, cause it looks like they’re here for you now.” She pointed at a black car parked a few feet away. Peter perked up and looked in the window.   
He frowned. That sure didn’t look like Happy. That slender frame, the way the hair stuck up, almost looked like—

He gasped. Throwing an arm in front of Ned and MJ, he said in a low voice, “Stay here. I’ll deal with this.” 

Ned spoke up. “Dude, what are you talking about?” 

“That’s not Happy. It’s Harry.” 

“What?” Ned and MJ said at the same time. 

The boy opened the door of the car, and sure enough, there was Harry Osborn. Peter could only stare as the boy dodged kids walking out of school and stood in front of him. Peter was about ready to punch him, but…

Harry looked like he’d seen a ghost. He was pale, and sweat covered his forehead. His eyes were wide and panicked, and his hands shook at his sides. 

“What are you doing here?” Peter asked, keeping his voice even. 

“I’m sorry, I…didn’t know where else to go.” Harry wrung his hands, looking from side to side as if someone would pop out of the shadows and catch him. 

“Look, you can’t be here,” Peter said. “Just go away, please.” 

“Pete, please you have to help me.” Harry rushed forward and gripped Peter’s shirt in his hands. His eyes shone with tears. “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” he said, voice breaking. 

The world stopped. Peter’s thoughts careened to a halt. 

“Oh my god. Harry?” 

The boy smiled sadly. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.” 

“Harry!” Peter gripped him in a hug. He put his face in the boy’s neck, breathing in his scent. “Harry, I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” 

“Um, does anyone want to tell us what’s going on?” Ned asked behind him. Peter reluctantly let go of Harry and said, 

“Dude. Harry’s back.” 

“Weren’t you like, psychotic or something?” MJ asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Ned! MJ!” Harry said, grinning openly. “Feels like forever since I’ve seen you guys.” 

“Uh huh…” MJ crossed her arms. 

“I’m sorry.” He bowed his head. “You uh, probably won’t believe this, but that serum stuff? It’s controlling me.” His hands gripped his head. “I just got myself back for a bit. I don’t know what’s happening, and I just came here cause I knew you guys would help me. At least, I thought you would…” 

“Hey.” Peter put a hand on his shoulder. “Of course we will. Right guys?” 

Ned and MJ looked at each other, then nodded. “Yeah,” MJ said. “We will.” 

Harry gulped and said, “Sorry, this is gonna sound weird…but I really need a hug. Can you guys…?” 

Peter dove in before he could finish his sentence. It was so good to hold him again. Ned’s arms soon wrapped around the two of them, and with a sigh, MJ came in too. People laughed around them, but Peter didn’t care. Harry was here. He was back. 

With a gasp, Harry jumped back, gripping his head. Peter put a hand on his arm. 

“Harry. Hey, can you hear me?” he said. 

The boy nodded, body shaking. “Yeah. I can hear you. But this stuff is really strong. I can’t hold it off forever.” 

Peter looked from Ned, to MJ, to Harry. “I’ve got an idea. Can I borrow your keys?” 

Harry frowned. “Um…sure? Why?” 

 

Moments later, Peter was driving up the highway with Harry in the passenger seat. Harry was panting, clutching his chest with a hand. The other was wrapped firmly in Peter’s. He was still shaking. 

Peter pursed his lips and kept driving. The Avengers were Harry’s only chance. Peter was going to get him to the compound if it was the last thing he ever did. He knew the way from going there every weekend and staring out the window on the drive there. 

“You still with me?” he said, squeezing Harry’s hand. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, hoarse. “For now.” 

“Don’t say that. You’ll be just fine.” 

“Hey, Peter…” Harry winced. “I’m really sorry. About all the things I did.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

The boys locked eyes for a moment, and Harry said, “No really. I stabbed you. There’s no way I can ever atone for that.” 

Peter sighed. “I mean, I can’t say you’re wrong. That was a pretty crappy thing to do.” He chuckled weakly. “But I’m okay, and you’ll be okay. I’m gonna make sure of that, you hear me?” 

Harry said nothing. 

“You hear me?” He repeated. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I hear you.” 

“Good.” 

Harry leaned over and pressed a kiss to Peter’s cheek. “Hopefully that makes up for something.” 

“I don’t know, man. You’ve got a lot to make up for. You tried to kill me like, eight times.” 

“I’m pretty sure it was more than eight.” 

“Maybe. But the important thing is…” He met Harry’s eyes for a second. “It wasn’t you. It was that serum, or whatever.” 

“The Goblin.” 

“Yeah.” Peter nodded. “It was him. Not you.” 

“Do you think it was like that with my dad?” 

Peter’s breath caught. “Honestly…I don’t know. Maybe.” 

“Yeah.” Harry paused. “You…really didn’t kill him, did you?” 

“No I didn’t. He was trying to attack me from behind, but I jumped out of the way, and the glider hit him instead. I swear, that’s what happened.” 

“Okay. Thank you.” 

A few moments of silence passed, with the only sounds being the rush of cars on the highway and Harry’s labored breathing. Peter swallowed and said, 

“You know…I’m not gonna forgive you just like that.” 

“I didn’t think you would.” 

“I just want to help you. Cause you’re my friend. And…” He took a breath. His eyes watered, but he blinked away the tears. “You know I love you, right?” 

“Yeah,” Harry said. Peter looked over and saw a tear trailing down the boy’s cheek. “I love you too.” 

Neither spoke for the rest of the ride. Peter just held Harry’s hand and hoped as hard as he could that things would work out. Finally, they rolled up to the compound, and Peter opened Harry’s door, helping the boy out of the car. 

“Can I grab my stuff? It’s still in the trunk,” Harry said. Peter nodded, opening the trunk and putting the backpack he found on his shoulder. 

“Let’s get inside,” he said. They made their way to the door, where Peter said, “FRIDAY? It’s me. Can you let us in?” 

“Who’s your friend?” she said. “I’m not sure Boss wants civilians inside.” 

“Please just let us in. It’s urgent.” 

“Wait…that’s Harry Osborn, isn’t it? He’s not supposed to be—” 

“Nevermind,” Peter said, opening up the doorbell panel and working with the wires for a moment until the door opened. “Thanks anyway.” 

“Um, what did you do?” Harry asked. 

“Just opened the door for us. Don’t worry about it.” Peter shoved Harry inside, looking back onto the road. Strange, that no cars were here. 

“Wow,” Harry said, looking up and around. “This place is huge.” 

“Right? Pretty cool,” Peter said with a grin. 

“So where are we going exactly?” 

“My room.” He gripped the other boy’s hand and tugged him up some stairs and down a hall. “In here.” A hall of doors appeared, and Peter opened one on the left. “This one’s mine. It’s not the biggest, but…” 

It was true, his room wasn’t the biggest in the compound. But it was still at least five times bigger than his room at home. His bed lay against one wall, while one enormous desk stretched the length of two walls. The last wall was covered with posters. Various computers lay open on the desk, with parts scattered all throughout the room. 

“This is nice,” Harry said, then gasped. He gripped his chest with a hand. 

Peter rushed to him, putting his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Hey. Harry, listen to me. You’re gonna be okay, got it? You’ve lasted like, three hours. You can last a little longer, right? At least till the other guys come.” And where were they? It was evening already, and the sun was setting. 

 

Wait. What had Mr. Stark told him the other day? ‘We’re going to be in a conference in the city…’ 

Oh, crap. 

Peter cursed under his breath. So they wouldn’t be here till later. Well, that was okay right? He could still manage this. This was fine. Yeah. He nodded to himself and turned to the floor-to-ceiling windows at the end of the room. A long breath left his lungs. He’d gotten Harry here safely. That was a relief. He heard Harry unzipping his backpack, and smiled. 

“Hey, Harry,” he said, turning. “I hope you’ve got enough stuff in there for tonight. Like, pajamas or some—” 

Harry chuckled and tossed something from hand to hand. “I can’t believe you got me all the way here. I mean, the secret base of the Avengers? Nice going. Now I can kill all of you with no problem.” He looked at Peter and threw the pumpkin bomb up in the air and catching it with a hand. “Hope you’re ready to die, Spiderman.” 

His stomach dropped. “Oh, Harry.” 

The boy grinned and threw the pumpkin bomb as hard as he could.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. Sorry I didn't post yesterday, but shit kind of went down in my life recently. My mental health hasn't been great lately, and it took a turn for the worse this past weekend. Thankfully I got some help, and I'm trying to mend, but it's very slow going. I'll keep posting though, I promise. This fic and all the positive feedback it's getting is actually a source of happiness for me, so I definitely will keep going with it. Thanks for all your help. Love you guys!

Tony got the notification someone was entering the compound just as the conference was about to start. He and the others were supposed to talk about superhero’s roles in the modern world or some shit. Right now, he was waiting in a long, empty hallway for the others to get here. He pulled his phone out and frowned. 

“Two people?” He muttered. He opened the notification and pulled up the camera. “FRI, who came in?” 

“Mr. Parker did, sir.” 

“And?” 

“Mr. Osborn, sir.” 

His frown deepened. “That can’t be right.” But the camera didn’t lie. When he pulled up the footage, there was Peter, hand-in-hand with Harry Osborn. A cold shock of fear went down his spine. “What?” He hissed. “Where the hell was Happy?” 

“Mr. Hogan was not present.” 

“Call Happy,” he said. 

“Calling…” Her voice cut out as Happy answered the phone. 

“Hey. So where’s Peter? I’ve been here forever.” 

“He’s at the compound,” Tony said. “With Harry.” 

“What?” Happy said. “How?” 

“I was hoping you could tell me.” Tony clenched his left hand into a fist. 

Happy sighed. “Well, I never picked him up. He isn’t here.” 

Tony groaned and leaned against the wall, trying to ignore his rapidly increasing heart rate. This was bad. What the hell was Peter thinking, bringing that boy? He was the Goblin, for Christ’s sake. 

Tony had to get there as soon as he could. 

“I’m going to head over,” he said to the phone. “You come too.” 

“Got it, boss.” Happy’s voice cut out. 

Nat approached him from down the hall. She stopped and crossed her arms. “What happened?” 

Leave it to Nat to know when something’s wrong, he thought. “Look,” he said, pulling up the image of Peter and Harry. 

Her eyes met his. “So let’s go.” 

“Yeah. Can you get the others?” 

She pulled out her own phone and typed something. “Taken care of.” 

“Good. We’re gonna have to cancel this thing.” He shook his head and rubbed his temple. “Christ, this kid is going to kill me.” 

She smirked. “Yeah, I know. Now come on.” She turned and began walking the other way. 

Tony nodded and followed without another word. He cursed under his breath. Peter had better have a good explanation for this. 

 

\--

 

Peter opened his eyes to smoke and fire. He coughed and rose to his knees. What the hell..? He looked around at the wreckage of his room, at the parts of computers now strewn over the floor, at the burning furniture, the charred walls. 

He gasped as he remembered, then leaned over in a coughing fit. Harry. Holy shit, Harry. “Harry,” he called. “Are you there?” 

“Oh, I’m here,” a voice said as the smoke cleared. “I’m impressed you’re still alive.” A figure emerged into Harry, stalking closer to him. The boy now had his full Goblin armor on, though he held the helmet under his arm. Peter froze. 

Harry’s eyes were like a snowstorm. Cold and wild. There was no semblance of sense there, not anymore. Peter blinked away tears. This was going to be harder than he thought.   
He rose to his feet. “You want to kill me? Go ahead and try.” 

Harry raised his eyebrows and chuckled. “Bold words for someone with no chance.” He stepped closer, close enough for Peter to feel his breath. “You won’t win this.” 

Peter gulped as he looked from Harry’s lips to his eyes. “You don’t know that.” 

“Oh, but I do.” The punch hit Peter square in the face. He only just caught himself with his hands as he fell to the ground. He grimaced and felt his already-stinging cheek. Shit.   
His spider-sense flared, and he rolled out of the way of a kick, coming into a low fighting stance. 

“Very nice,” Harry said. “But not good enough.” He jumped up, and out of nowhere his glider appeared under him. “I hid it in the backpack. Quite nice, don’t you think?” 

Peter ducked as Harry flew over him. He turned to see the other boy grimace. “Yes, you would dodge that.” The expression faded. “But I’ve got a few more tricks up my sleeve.”   
From a compartment on his suit he pulled out two circular blades. The Razors. Peter gritted his teeth. “Remember these?” Harry released them with a cackle. 

As they came toward him, Peter webbed a broken desk piece and flung it in front of him, letting it take the blow. The wood splintered, and he bit his lip. That didn’t last long. His spider-sense tingled, and he dodged left as the other razor came at him from behind. Heat-seeking, then. A thought occurred, and Peter turned to where his lab equipment lay. He webbed the Bunsen burner, grabbing it as he ducked out of the way of the razors again. Mentally thanking Mr. Stark for installing internal batteries in this thing so it didn’t plug into the wall, he turned it all the way up. 

“Come on, come on…” he mumbled, whipping around to see the razors flying at him. He yelped and held the burner up, praying this would work…

The razors slammed into the burner and stopped. Peter let out a shaky breath and said, “Wow. Can’t believe that worked.” 

Harry growled, and Peter looked up at him. “Try me, Goblin,” Peter said. “What next?” 

Suddenly, the other boy calmed. He even smiled. “Oh, I’ve got a few things.” He pulled a pumpkin bomb off his belt. 

“Not those again. You’ve already tried that, remember?” 

“True. But then again…you’re not wearing your suit right now.” 

Peter’s blood froze. He looked down at himself. His clothes were already smoking. Shit. As the bomb flew toward him, Peter webbed himself towards the ceiling. The bomb exploded as he flew, throwing him off course and slamming him into the wall just near the door. He groaned, making sure to stick to the wall. Something burned on his shoulder…  
He looked over to see flames bursting from his jacket. Faster than lightning he ripped it off, throwing it to the floor. He turned around on the wall to face Harry. 

“Nice try,” he said through gritted teeth, trying not to cough. The smoke was filling the room. He’d have to get out of here. Besides this space was too small to fight. There had to be a place with more room… But where could he go? The training room was too far. And he couldn’t easily get outside from here. 

The living room. That would be perfect. 

Just as Harry flew closer, Peter ducked out of the way and into the doorway. He ran as hard as he could down the hall. 

“You think you can get away from me?” Harry shouted. Peter winced as he ran, trying in vain to ignore the burning pain of his shoulder and arms. Those bombs had done more damage than he thought. Come on, he thought. Just get somewhere safe. 

As soon as the hall ended and he entered the living room, he careened to a halt. This would be perfect! The room was almost three stories high, with photos covering one wall, and a television on another. The third wall was just an enormous window revealing the lawn. At the far end of the room lay the kitchen. Furniture lay about the room: two couches, three chairs, and two tables. 

Perfect, he thought. Now he just needed to—

Before he could blink, Peter was thrown forward with all the force of a bomb. Oh, shit, a bomb. 

He landed in a crouch after skidding across the floor. His eyes widened as Harry stalked towards him, tossing another bomb from hand to hand. How many of those things did he have, anyway? 

Harry grinned as he walked through the smoke and flames. “Well, well. Still alive.” 

“Can’t kill me that easy,” Peter said, coughing at the smoke. 

“Apparently not.” 

Peter grimaced as he looked at the boy. Those eyes were so familiar. It felt like yesterday that he’d kissed him for the first time. How had things gone so wrong so fast? 

“Harry,” he said. “Listen to me. This isn’t you.” 

The other boy sneered. “When will you learn? I am Harry.” 

“My boyfriend wouldn’t try to kill me! He wouldn’t threaten my family, or my friends. Harry,” Peter gasped the words. “I know you’re in there.” 

Harry blinked, and his jaw stiffened. “N-no. You won’t get to me.” 

“Fine. Then I’ll get him out of you. No matter what.” With that, Peter lunged. 

Harry ducked out of the way of the punch easily. Peter tried again. When that didn’t work, he webbed the other boy’s hand. Gripping the web tight, he pulled hard. Harry fell forward onto his knees. When he cried out, Peter closed his hard for a split second. He hated this. But he had to. If he didn’t, Harry was going to hurt people he cared about. 

After that, the fight devolved into lightning-fast blows, dodging and kicking and punching and missing and barely getting in a hit. In his head, Peter thanked Ms. Romanov for teaching him everything he knew. But he wasn’t getting anywhere. Every time he tried to kick Harry’s stomach, Harry would kick right back. Every time he punched, Harry punched right back. Soon his whole body ached, and he could barely move without pain surging through him. But he had to. 

“You won’t hurt them,” he said, wheezing, when Harry caught his fist mid-air. “I won’t let you.” 

Harry shook his head, not even panting. “When will you learn? This isn’t about them. This is about you.” His gaze hardened into a glare. “You killed my father. In cold blood. How could you, Peter?” 

“I didn’t do it,” Peter pleaded. “Listen to me. I didn’t.” 

“Yes you DID!” Harry grabbed a knife from his belt and lunged out with it. Peter ducked out of the way, dodging the next few blows. Harry lifted his arm for a stab, but as he brought it down, Peter caught his wrist in both hands. 

“Harry, I’m begging you. Please listen to me. I told you I didn’t kill him.” 

“You were lying,” Harry said, eyes wild. 

“I swear I wasn’t.” 

Harry punched Peter in the stomach, making him let go of the boy’s wrist. He grabbed Peter by the neck and hoisted him up. Through his blurring vision, Peter could just see Harry as he said, 

“Yes. You. Were.” 

With that, Harry turned and flung Peter as hard as he could. Peter had just enough sense left to know where he was going, to feel the enormous window shatter, to scream at the pain of glass shards tearing into his skin as he flew through the air.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you probably noticed I changed it from 24 chapters to 23, and that's cause I was going to do a final chapter and then an epilogue, but I ended up combining the two. Thanks so much for all the love! You guys are the best. Thanks!!!

Tony flew to the compound as fast as he could. He kept trying to access the cameras, but according to FRIDAY someone, Harry probably, had disabled them. 

“I don’t have eyes at the compound,” Tony said into his comms. “Whatever’s going on, we won’t see it till we get there.” 

“So what do you think’s going on?” Rhodey asked. 

“A fight, maybe?” Bruce sighed. “Hopefully Peter’s just trying to cure him. A fight is the last thing we need.” 

“Yeah, don’t I know…wait. Can you guys see this from the ground?” A smoke trail appeared in the distance. 

“The smoke? Yes, we can see it,” Nat said. 

Tony grimaced. “And we’re nearing the compound. Fantastic.” 

The next few minutes passed in tense silence until the compound came into view. Tony felt the blood drain from his face as he took in the sight of the main building burning from multiple holes, probably explosions. Those had to be from the bombs the Osborn kid used. From the screeching sound at the ground, the other members of the team were rolling up. Tony landed next to the car, opening his face plate. 

“What should we do?” Bruce said. 

“Go in. Help Peter. Get rid of the other kid,” Nat said. Everyone turned to her with different versions of horror on their faces, and she said, “I didn’t mean kill him, jeez. We’re going to apprehend him.” 

“Okay,” Tony said. “Let’s do—” 

The window exploded. A figure shot out of the wreckage, landing with a smack and skidding across the pavement towards them. Tony’s heart nearly stopped as he realized it was—

“Peter!” He ran over, exiting the suit. He rolled the boy onto his back, taking in the kid’s burns, bruises, and cuts with increasing panic. 

After a second, Peter opened his eyes. “Mr. Stark?” he said, sounding confused. He looked up at the others. “Oh, hey guys.” 

“Your friends can’t save you, Spider-man,” a voice came from the giant hole in the compound. “There’s only one way this ends. Your death.” Tony stiffened as he saw Harry Osborn standing there. Except, that didn’t look like the same boy Tony had met weeks ago, or even the one who stabbed Peter. This boy had lost all semblance of sanity. His eyes twitched, and he went in and out of a crazed grin. 

Peter shot to his feet, shouting, “Why don’t you try, then?” Before Tony could stop him, he shot a web and flew up toward Harry. 

For a split second, no one knew what to say. 

“Okay, then,” Rhodey finally said. “So that’s a thing.” 

Nat grabbed a gun from…somewhere (she always had one), and clicked it. “We should go in.” 

“Wait.” Tony threw out a hand. “Look.” 

“Oh my god,” Rhodey said. “He’s winning.” 

 

\--

 

Before Peter could say hi to the Avengers, Harry shouted down a threat, and he shot back into combat without a second thought. He flew up, legs out, and kicked Harry in the chest. The boy scrambled to his feet, but Peter just webbed a chair and slammed it into Harry, sending him back to his feet. Harry tried again and again to rise, but Peter just kept hitting with everything he could find: chair legs, sofas, the tv. 

After five hits, Harry lay on his back, and grinned. He pulled out a bomb and threw it. 

“Not this time,” Peter growled, grabbing the bomb in his hand and throwing it to the side. It exploded several feet away as he stalked toward him. 

“Oh well done,” Harry said, rising to his feet. He still gripped the knife, and swung outward with it. Peter ducked out of the way a second too late, earning a cut on his cheek. He winced. “But I’m afraid this is the end for you.” 

“Oh yeah?” Peter threw his hands out. “You’re outnumbered, Harry.” He wiped the blood from his cheek and said, “It’s over.” 

Harry narrowed his eyes. “So you won’t finish the job? How typical of you, Pete.” 

He looked away. “I’m not gonna kill you Harry.” 

“Really?” Harry backed up a few steps. “Cause that’s certainly what I’m going to do to you.” With that, he broke into a run. 

Peter’s stomach dropped. Harry really did want to kill him, didn’t he? There was no hesitation in his eyes. 

“Harry, please,” Peter said, holding his hands in front of him. “Don’t do this.” 

“You can’t stop me, Spider-man!” 

Peter’s voice rose to a shout as he said, “I don’t want to hurt you!” He grimaced, trying to ignore the throbbing pain of his body. “And I know you don’t want to hurt me.” 

He looked into Harry’s eyes and hoped. He hoped with all he had. 

But Harry just slammed him to the ground, landing on top of him, holding the knife aloft. 

“It’s over,” the boy said in a growl. “Your little friends can’t save you now.” 

Peter vaguely heard shouts of his name. “Don’t be so sure.” 

Harry just grimaced. “They won’t get here in time. I’m still going to kill you.” 

“Are you?” Peter said weakly. “You sure? Cause…you know I love you, right?” 

The other boy’s eyes widened. He bared his teeth and said, 

“Shut up.” 

“You’re my best friend. I know you’re in there. You gotta fight it.” 

Harry shouted and threw the knife away. For a moment, a flicker of hope lit in Peter’s chest. Then the punch landed. Right on his jaw. 

“Shut up!” Harry screamed, punching again. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” He hit again, and again, and again. “Get out of my head. I hate you. I hate you!” 

As Harry hit, Peter’s vision darkened, and soon he barely felt the punches. Still, he whispered, 

“I love you too.” 

A scream ripped out of Harry, so painful Peter felt it in his soul. A second later, something threw the boy off of him. 

Then he blacked out. 

In his dream-state, he saw Harry. The toothy grin he gave him when they first met as sixth-graders. Hanging out together after school. The sadness when Harry vanished off the face of the Earth, because his father had taken him away. 

Then the hope when Harry called him, that day in the compound. His voice. God, to hear his voice again was a dream come true. Seeing him again was even better. 

But then his father died. The light disappeared from his eyes. He got it back for a little when Peter kissed him, but Harry was never the same. How Peter wished he could just make him feel okay again. 

He wanted to tell him how much he loved him. How he’d do anything to bring a smile to his face. Just to see him smile…

“Peter!” 

Peter jolted awake, and looked up at—

“Mr. Stark!” 

“Hey, kiddo,” the man said, a tired smile on his face. “You were out cold for a minute there.” 

“We’re glad to see you, Pete,” Mr. Rhodes said from beside him. 

“Hey,” Peter said, wiping his face, then wincing. “Ow.” 

“Yeah, you’re gonna need to rest, okay?” Mr. Stark said. “For a long time.” 

Peter nodded, then leaned his head back. “That’s fair.” He hesitated for a second, then said, “So where’s Harry?” 

Mr. Stark sighed. “Over there.” He pointed further into the wreckage of the room. There Harry lay, unconscious, limbs akimbo. Peter sighed and rose to his feet. Ignoring Mr. Stark’s remarks of how bad an idea that was, he didn’t hesitate to poke Harry’s shoulder with his foot. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Ms. Romanov said, appearing beside him. 

“It’s okay,” Peter said. “Just need to do one thing.” 

Harry shifted, face scrunching up until he woke. His eyes widened when he saw Peter, who didn’t hesitate to web his hand to the ground. 

“Hey,” Harry said slowly. 

“Which Harry am I talking to?” Peter said. 

The boy bowed his head. “I didn’t mean to do all this, I swear. It was that serum. I never meant to hurt anyone.” 

“Forgive us if we have a hard time believing that,” Mr. Stark snapped. 

Peter knelt down, putting his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I know,” he said. Harry visibly relaxed. His voice broke as he said, “And I’m glad you’re still in there.” 

Harry gave a broken smile. “Me too.” 

“But I can’t forgive what you’ve done.” 

Harry’s face fell. “Okay,” he said. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” He nodded. “The serum may have made me crazy, but it was still me doing those things. Hurting those people…Taking that serum was my decision. I shouldn’t have done it, but I did.” 

Peter nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. After clearing it he said, “So I think I’m gonna have to break up with you.” 

Harry gave a sudden laugh. “Yeah. No, that makes sense.” 

Peter grinned, but the expression soon faded. 

“Still…we had a good run, didn’t we?” Harry met his eyes. 

“Yeah,” Peter said with a nod. “We did.” Before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and kissed Harry’s forehead. 

He stood and faced the others. “When can…someone, get Harry?” 

“FBI’s already on their way. We’re going to have to put him somewhere real secure, you know that right?” Mr. Stark said. “Probably the Raft.” 

Peter took a deep breath through his nose. “Yeah, okay.” He took a step forward, but tripped on something. Ms. Romanov stepped forward to catch him. 

“Woah there, little spider,” she said with a smirk. “You need to heal up.” 

“Yeah,” he said. “But there’s plenty of time for that now.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!!! Thank your all the love and support for this fic. You all are seriously the best. I'm releasing this chapter early as a little gift for you, for reaching 600 followers on my tumblr blog, petermjtexts. You all deserve the world! THANK YOU!!!

Later on, Tony realized he should have known something was wrong the second the phone rang. Then maybe none of the rest would have happened. He looked at Peter, asleep on a bed in the thankfully-intact medbay, and sighed. 

“It’s a mess,” he said with a sigh, crossing his arms. 

On his right, Rhodey nodded. “But we’re cleaning it up.” 

“Hey.” From his left, Nat put a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “He’s gonna be okay.” 

Tony shrugged. She was right, and he knew it. Looking at Peter, he felt a tinge of warmth in his chest. After everything, Peter was still here. Harry was on his way to the Raft, and Peter was still here. 

“Hey, Tony,” Bruce said from across the table. “Don’t be too mad at him when he wakes up.” 

“Mad?” Tony blinked. “No, I’m not mad anymore. But damn, he could have told us something.” 

Nat smirked. “Like you would if you were in his place?” Tony rolled his eyes at that. 

“He does take after you,” Rhodey said with a laugh. “You sure he’s not yours?” 

Tony gave Rhodey his best glare, making the man laugh harder. After a second, Tony turned back to Peter. 

“Still, he did a good job,” he said, rolling his shoulders. “For a kid.” 

“Good job? I’ve never seen him fight like that,” Nat said. 

Bruce nodded. “He really should train with the rest of us.” 

Tony gave a small smile. “Yeah.” Peter really had been amazing. Tony had never seen that kind of fire in him before. He’d fought like nothing Tony had never seen. Tony knew Harry meant a lot to him, but still, he’d underestimated Peter’s devotion. He’d been fighting to save Harry, not stop him. And he’d done well. So well, Tony was still kind of in shock. “Maybe he should.” He bowed his head. “Still.” 

“Still what?” Rhodey asked.

“You think we shouldn’t have noticed something sooner? About Harry, and Norman.” 

Rhodey shrugged. “Maybe. But none of us can predict the future.” 

“Yeah, but…” 

Nat tapped him on the arm with her fist. “Don’t beat yourself up, okay? Peter wouldn’t want you to.” 

He nodded, biting his bottom lip. “Yeah.” 

Peter’s fingers shifted, and Tony perked up. He rushed to the bedside, helping the boy sit up. 

“What…happened?” Peter mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Wait…Harry.” His eyes widened, and he gripped Tony’s arm. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry. I was going to tell you I was bringing him, but then you’d never have let me, I just thought he could get help here, you know? I didn’t know he was going to lose it again, I swear. I just—” 

“Hey,” Tony said, holding up a hand. “It’s okay.” 

Peter froze. “It is?” 

“Yeah. Harry’s going to the Raft though, okay?” 

Peter nodded. “The Raft. That’s that like, super-powered people prison right?” 

“Yeah,” Rhodey said, stepping up. “He’s going to be okay.” 

“You are too, all right?” Nat said, tilting her head. 

Peter nodded, but his eyes began to water. He covered his mouth with a hand and looked away, giving a silent sob. 

Tony looked down and rubbed the kid’s back. Of course he was sad. This was his first real breakup. It wasn’t going to be easy. Still…

“You’re going to be okay, all right?” Nat said, speaking Tony’s next words for him. 

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Peter mumbled, bowing his head. 

“I know,” Tony said. “I know.” But you will be, he wanted to say. “But trust us, okay?” 

Peter gave a nod, and Tony released a breath. It would take awhile, but Peter would heal. Maybe he’d even start dating someone else. Who knew what the future held for him? 

 

\--

 

Tony watched as Peter came into the compound’s lab two and a half months later looking very, very confused. Happy, but confused. 

“What happened to you?” he asked with a smirk. 

Peter sat down on the table, plopping his backpack down on the floor. “The weirdest thing ever happened to me today.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair and said, “You know MJ?” 

Tony perked up. “That girl who makes fun of you all the time?” 

“Yeah, her. She um, asked me out today.” 

Tony raised his eyebrows. “Huh. I mean, makes sense.” 

“What?” Peter jumped off the table. “It literally doesn’t. She hates me.” 

Tony chuckled. “No, she doesn’t.” 

Peter frowned. “Wha…” 

“Peter, do you know why little girls tease little boys on the playground?” 

“Are you just using that line from Brooklyn Nine-Nine but swapping the genders—” 

“Yes, keep up. It’s because they secretly like those boys but don’t know how to say it.” 

“What?” Peter said. “How does that make any sense?” He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. 

Tony frowned. “You not gonna go out with her? You’re bi, right?” 

Peter blinked. “Yeah. That’s not the problem. She’s really smart, and pretty and stuff.” He looked away, face flushing. “I just need to process, is all.” 

“Makes sense,” Tony said, nodding. Inwardly, he chuckled. This was good for Peter. Having another chance at romance was good for him. And Tony was happy. To see Peter be able to enjoy something as simple and innocent as teenage attraction was a wonderful thing. He deserved to be happy. So Tony said, “Go out with her.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. She seems to like you. So do it.” 

Peter pursed his lips, and nodded. He began to grin, and said, “Yeah, okay. Thanks.” 

“No problem. And Pete?” 

Peter looked up. 

“Have fun, okay?” 

“I will, Mr. Stark.”


	24. Alternate Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt so bad about not giving Peter and Harry a happy ending that I wrote one- hope you enjoy!

Two months passed before any more news was heard. Peter spent those months in a daze, wandering around trying to be normal. But somehow, nothing was. He tried to spend time with his friends, and the Avengers too, all of whom tried to make him happy. Every once in awhile he would smile or laugh, and that was good. Great, even. But nothing was the same without Harry. 

He saw him everywhere. In the bodega he remembered when they’d gotten sandwiches together. When he wandered past small apartment buildings, he remembered fighting him. And when he walked past Oscorp tower, he remembered that first kiss. Somehow the stabbing had gone to the back of his mind. He knew that Harry had been under the control of the serum. Anything he’d done hadn’t been his doing. 

Every day, Peter regretted those words he’d said. Breaking up with Harry? Seriously? What an idiot he’d been. Why couldn’t he have been more stubborn with Mr. Stark and begged him to try to find an antidote for the serum? Peter had a whole laundry list of things he would’ve done differently, given the chance. 

First, he would’ve noticed earlier that Harry had been taking the serum. Better yet, he would have stopped the boy from taking it at all. Then, he would’ve ducked out of the way of that stab and gotten Harry to come back to his senses. There were more things, of course. More choices he could have made, different actions he would have taken.   
But he couldn’t do any of that now, he thought as he played with a screwdriver in Mr. Stark’s workshop at the compound. It was hopeless. 

“Hey, kiddo,” Mr. Stark said as he entered the room. “What’s up?” 

Peter sighed. “Nothing.” 

“Still moping, huh?” 

“Maybe. Why?” Peter said, looking over. 

“Nothing. Just thought I’d cheer you up with something.” Mr. Stark walked over, taking the screwdriver away. “So you can pay attention,” he explained at Peter’s whine. “Before I do that, I got a question for you.” He cleared his throat. “This Harry kid. You really liked him, didn’t you?” 

“I…yeah.” Peter bowed his head. “I did. I do.” 

“Why?” 

He looked up. “Well, cause…” He bit his lip. “He was my best friend. And he has a dimple on only one side, and he likes experiments, and he hates pickles. He’s great with biology, but sucks at history. And…he was great. He put up with me, you know?” 

Mr. Stark nodded, and crossed his arms. “I bet you’re pretty upset that he’s at the Raft.” 

Peter gathered his hands into fists, and said, “Yeah. Yeah,” he said again, louder. “I wish you’d let me work on a cure for him. I know he can be better, I swear! I just need time, and I can work here, and I’ll do my homework first and—” 

Mr. Stark put his hands up. “Hey, slow down. I’ve got that covered.” 

Peter paused and straightened. “What?” 

“The cure.” 

Peter blinked. “Hm?” 

“So I think it’s time to cheer you up.” Mr. Stark turned toward the door and called, “Why don’t you come in, kid?” 

“What—” Peter started, but cut off when Harry walked through the door. 

He still looked weak, with slightly hollow cheek bones and an uncertainty to his step, but his eyes were clearer than they’d been in a long time. Mr. Stark uncrossed his arms and said, 

“Well I imagine you boys need some space. I’m out.” 

Peter met his eyes and mouthed, ‘thank you’. Mr. Stark left with a nod and a smile. 

Harry gave a small grin and said, 

“Um, Mr. Stark helped me out. He uh, made an antitode. Sent it to the Raft. Sorry. Pete, I’m so sorry, I—” 

Peter tackled him in a hug before the boy could say another word. “It’s okay,” he said into Harry’s shoulder. “I don’t care about what you did. That wasn’t you.” He hugged tighter. “I just need you here.” 

Harry put his hands on Peter’s back. “Well I’m not going anywhere. Not anymore. And I…I promise I’m on your side. From now on.” 

Peter smiled. “From now on.” When he pressed his lips to Harry’s, he had no regrets. This was the right choice.


End file.
